Last Tuesday, my stepfather Bob was taking his daily walk to Einstein Bagels for coffee. He had been commenting recently how tired he gets (which doesn't seem surprising because he is in his late eighties.) On Tuesday he barely made it to the strip mall where Einstein's is located, when he started having severe chest pains, causing him to almost fall over. Jerry was delivering mail at the time, saw him, and rushed to him. He got Bob to an outdoor seating area of a Chinese restaurant, got Bob's pills from his pocket and gave him one, called 911, and stayed with him until he was on the ambulance.
I intend to go find Jerry this week, so that I can personally thank him. And after I ascertain that he won't get in trouble (you never know with the Post Office) I will let his superiors know what he did.
Meanwhile, Bob arrived at the hospital where it was determined that he had a blocked artery, and as he was being taken to the cardiac cath lab, he had a second heart attack because another artery was blocked as well. So he received two stents at the same time.
All is well that ends well. Bob is doing okay and going home today. Had Jerry not been there or not been paying attention, I'm afraid that the outcome would have been very different. Jerry is a hero in my mind.
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