In the summer of 1969, barely graduated from high school, I suffered a massive heart attack after contracting a virus of the heart lining--a condition known as myocarditis. I had died in my hospital bed and looked down upon the living from a place that we shall all visit one day.In this blog, just over a month ago, I told the tale of how a loving nurse helped me find the path back to the living. The essay was entitled How Myoko Sakatani Saved My Life. (You can click here to read it).Years later, when I contacted the hospital where I had spent that eventful summer, I was told that Myoko had moved on. Today, the hospital itself has closed. I felt sad that I never had the opportunity to thank her for all she had done for me.The blogosphere is an astonishing place. It seems that I average but 25 readers a day, and I have only been here since December. I'm a fleeting tick of a second hand in the digital ether. So you can imagine how I felt this morning when I opened an email, forwarded from my business website, where someone had apparently searched for me. The message read:"My father emailed me a story about Myoko Sakatani. He contacted Myoko and she said that it was she that was in the story you wrote. Would you like to contact her?"
