JACK STALLARD

This week marked the two-year anniversary of the day my heart decided to do this odd thing where it stopped beating for three-to-five seconds at a time.

It happened on the opening day of the 2022 high school volleyball season, which is my excuse for letting it continue for a couple of hours before finally giving in, calling my wife and asking her to take me to the emergency room of the hospital around the corner from my office.

My wife still occasionally fusses at me for spending a couple of hours pretending the dizzy spells weren’t happening — or thinking they were simply a result of my excitement about the start of another sports season.

Her exact words are, “Stallard men are tougher than a crowbar, and almost as smart?”

I’m beginning to see a pattern here.

My dad said the same thing about me when I dislocated my hip the final day of football spring practice back in high school, but continued to run and lift weights all summer to try and get ready for a football season that never happened thanks to the damage I did.

Thankfully, this time I was smart enough (eventually) to check on what was causing the dizzy spells, and it was an easy fix.

After spending 22 hours hooked up to enough machines to launch a space shuttle, a doctor determined I needed a pacemaker. He did the surgery the next day, sent me home, and I went back to work three days later.

Several readers and Facebook friends have reached out to me this week to check on how things are going with my heart, and I appreciate it.

Some of you had questions, so allow me to use this space to answer some of them.

Did a watch really save your life?

It was probably a combination of my quick thinking (joking), my lovely wife getting me to the ER, the nurses who took care of me and the doctor who eventually installed my pacemaker that actually saved me, but when it happened I did give some credit to the watch I was wearing.

My wife got me the watch for Christmas a few years before to help me keep track of my steps when I took my daily walks. The watch also displays my heartbeat, and when I noticed my heart was ticking along at about 38 beats per minute when it wasn’t stopping altogether, I knew it was time to visit the emergency room.

How long did the procedure take?

It only took a couple of hours. It probably wouldn’t have taken that long, but about midway through it I scared the doctor by asking him a question.

Evidently, I wasn’t supposed to be awake, and it took him a few minutes to get HIS heartbeat back to normal.

Any issues with the pacemaker?

I tried to bribe the doctor into giving me a note for my wife citing the risks of mowing the yard, doing the dishes or laundry, lifting heavy stuff, hosting garage sales, eating broccoli or cauliflower, or watching movies where something doesn’t blow up at least every two minutes, but he was still mad at me and refused.

Truth is, there are really no limitations or issues other than the one time my son aimed the television remote at me while the microwave was heating up some leftovers and we accidently started the neighbor’s car.

I’m a blessed and lucky man, and I’m planning to stick around for a long time — even if it means occasionally eating broccoli.

I’m drawing the line at cauliflower, though. That’s nothing but ghost broccoli, and I want no part of it.