His Final Pvc's

His distant friend, so well respected by all, had written that there was nothing that would, in the end reverse the weakening of the histology, (he put it nicely) , and that the DNA would not take kindly to all the stress, would certainly and with a vengeance recall the whipping. Disturbing news, he found, are dealt with best by metamorphosis, and so, against the truth itself he dithered, and procrastinated, and in defiance created endorphins and did persist by telling this, his tired horse that whipping had to be endured, in fact it would improve and make immortal those very cells that, in the nick of time, in days forgotten, had pulled themselves out of the grip of... the one they call the reaper of cardiology. 'Myocarditis', he'd said will never leave the heart unscathed, one cannot now, or in the future ignore this fact and then persist with playing to an audience of youngish, braless women and the like, and run the marathon as if the tide had turned and youth been resurrected. But, there is always, on this cruel earth a choice, speak up and come to me, it is essential now that words to the effect of myocardial balm be offered by the voice of great authority. It is subjective, after all and one must, to rest assured, decide which truth would be authentic, and thus, convenient. A brilliant man, lives in the land where Longhorns roam came to the party armed with smiles and reassurance. It sometimes helps to ask the question in a way that pleases both ear and mind as if it had suspended accountability. And so it was that, like Jim Fixx, he ran and ran until the day arrived where only cirrhus clouds were witness to the tragedy. A painful fistful of PVC's, those squeezes that, in any circumstance no heart would want. They are the ones that choke you heartily, with excess kindness, with which they kill you. When they dropped in to visit him just once he knew the truth and reaped its punishment though only for a minute. Then he was gone. And rumours have it, that on the other side of cirrhus clouds, there is a runner, a stubborn man, who still defies all odds, and utters only those words of wisdom that suit. But, on the other hand the laws of cardiology do not apply up there.