Badump. Badump...

The heart is a fragile thing. It is powerful, capable of pumping the life-giving fuel that your body needs to survive. Day in and day out, it beats to the rhythm of Badump. Badump. Thousands of times a day it beats, pumping 7500 litters of blood a day. Yet it is also often the first to break. A little stress, a little fear, a little pressure. Why, it only takes one bad call... one misstep... one missed beat... and down fall 702,880 Americans into their caskets, still clutching their chests.

Three hours ago, you received one of the worst calls a person could get. Your wife, Alera, had gone into cardiac arrest at work and is now in the hospital. The rest is a blur. Alera sits in her hospital bed, looking at you. The sun shines through the window and around her, making her look angelic. Her hair catches each ray like a fiery halo. The birds chirp their favourite tunes through the open window, and for a while it and the steady beeping of the many machines are all that reverberate in the cold, sterile room where your wife sits. Finally, the woman with the strength to carry the sky and shines as bright as the stars in the sky speaks to you. "Hello, dear."