My Second Heart Journey

The Biggest Compliment

The other day I received a call from a dear friend and fellow transplant warrior. She had been reading my book and discovered something that apparently shocked her more than anything else in the story.

My age.

“You’re 73?” she asked.

I proudly admitted that I was.

She couldn’t believe it. She told me I didn’t look anywhere near 73. In fact, she said I looked like I was in my fifties, maybe 60 at the absolute most.

Now, I’ve received some nice compliments over the years, but this one went straight to my head. Forget being told I’m handsome, intelligent, or charming. Tell me I look 20 years younger, and you’re immediately my new best friend.

I’m beginning to think my transplant did more than save my life. Apparently, getting a younger heart is also some kind of cosmetic procedure. Who knew? People spend thousands of dollars on creams, injections, facelifts, and treatments. I got a heart transplant and came out looking younger.

Of course, I’m not sure the rest of my body got the message. My knees still know exactly how old I am. My back keeps excellent records. And when I get up from a chair, the noises coming from my joints sound like somebody stepping on a bag of potato chips.

But according to my friend, my face is holding up pretty well.

Maybe Charles’s younger heart is slowly taking over. Perhaps one morning I’ll wake up with thicker hair, fewer wrinkles, and the sudden urge to stay out past nine o’clock at night. Let’s not get carried away, though. I’m still in bed early, even if the heart inside me is young enough to complain about it.

Being told I look younger was wonderful, especially after everything my body has been through. Hospitals, surgeries, medications, biopsies, and enough blood draws to make me feel like I should have earned frequent-donor points. You’d think all of that would have aged me 20 years. Somehow, I seem to be going in the other direction.

So yes, I’ll gladly accept the compliment. I’m 73 years old, carrying a 31-year-old heart, and apparently looking somewhere in between.

That sounds fair to me.

Now, if this younger heart could do something about the gray hair, stiff knees, and my need for an afternoon nap, we’d really have something.

Frederick M. Hueston, author of My Heart Journey Book Series. A list of all my books are at www.Fredssecondheart.com