It's Wednesday night, just after 9pm. I posted an update about an hour ago.

I just found out that one of my best friends is going to die.

I just went to visit Marc in the hospital this afternoon. He can't die. He's just a year older than me. It doesn't feel real.

About six weeks ago, he went in for a routine check-up. The doctor discovered an irregular heartbeat. After a few x-rays and tests, it was determined that he lived his entire life with only three chambers in his heart, instead of the usual four. It was unusual he lasted this long. They had to have corrective surgery immediately.

He was in good spirits the last time I spoke to him about three weeks ago, upbeat.

This isn't real.

So the doctors told him he had to have a value put in. The choice was his: pig values or artificial valves. The artificial valves were a relatively new procedure and perhaps not as reliable as the pig valves. On the other hand, pig valves have to be replaced every six years. He opted for the artificial valves.

We kept in close contact with his wife, Cathy. The operation on Thursday went well. Still groggy from the anesthesia, Marc gave her two thumbs up.

Saturday, he had trouble breathing and was turning white. They returned him to the ICU. Monday morning, he went into cardiac arrest.

My friend Dave visited him yesterday and went with me today. Everyone said he was doing much better. His heart, kidneys and blood pressure were normal again.

I went in three times to see him this afternoon, each time saying positive things. The doctors said to bring his friends and keep him positive. I held his hand. It was warm. He looked like Marc, except asleep with his eyes open.

We joked with him. We told him he had to recover so he could go see his favorite band, Journey. Marc was always a sucker for 80's rock.

The neurologist arrived just after 5pm and we had to leave the ICU. We decided to go home. We'd come back Friday. I came home and posted a new column. I was online, so Dave couldn't call me. I got an e-mail around 8:05pm.

ron-
call me now.
dave

I called him and got the news. Our friend Mike just left the hospital. Marc wasn't going to make it. The neurologist got negative readings from his brain. They're doing a cat scan tomorrow to confirm, but they said he probably won't make it. There were tears all around. His brother asked Mike to pass along the news to us.

It doesn't feel real.

I can't cry. I don't know why that is. Maybe this past year of turmoil has made me insensitive. I don't know. I'm a bit teary eyed, but the tears won't flow. I want to cry.

Marc will leave behind a wife and two daughters, including a four year-old. He just bought her a kitten last week.

I hope that bitch is wrong. I hope the cat scan shows that everything is alright. Maybe the neurologist is full of shit. When she came in the room, she didn't have any testing equipment.

We need a miracle. It doesn't look good, but I'm going to pray for Marc tonight.

-Ron  

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