Because of this I had a yearly trip to the heart doctor. My heart doctor was a wonderful old man who had an easy smile. He listened to my requests, including not pulling out the top extra stitch after my surgery (I thought it would hurt), which ended up leaving an extra bump at the top of my scar, but hey, he listened. And I loved going and seeing him. Do you want to know why?
At the end of almost every appointment, he would send me home with a plate full of sugar cookies! I could never remember this doctor's name, it was kind of hard to pronounce; so I simple called him The Cookie Doctor. Mmmm, a plate full of cookies! Now that is good for the heart!
Also, because of my "condition" I had to see special dentist growing up, who was in Chicago.. so trips to the dentist meant a trip to the city with just my mom. Which often meant making a day of it and having some fun.
So the moral of the story: broken heart=plate full of cookies, broken heart=trips with Mom to the city. There's always good in life.
Alex annihilating a cookie