In my first year of high school, a teacher dropped dead in the shower at a school camp. He was the Drama teacher — ironically. He died of a heart attack. He was 39 years old.
I was thinking about this teacher as I went drove to the local hospital emergency department with chronic chest pain. “I’m surely too young to have a heart attack,” I thought, but the pain in my chest was taking my breath away. My wife had ordered me down to the hospital to get checked out. The waiting room was packed — 40, maybe 50 people all waiting to see someone for their respective emergencies.