I was walking to Walmart in October last year. All I remember is getting up to the door and this bloke saying "you can't come in here in that state." Apparently I'd had a heart attack but the blow from the fall had re-started it, and I'd just got up and carried on without realising what had happened. I vaguely knew my face had a bit of blood on it from the fall, but thought it was just a scratch. Wasn't really thinking straight. Million to one chance that I survived. Anyway they helicoptered me to Little Rock and cleared out a couple of arteries, and implanted a pacemaker and defibrillator just in case it happens again, and gave me a box of tablets, and I've been fine ever since. I've always said that if I'm going to die I'd rather not know anything about it, so if it does happen again then it's better than rotting away in pain for months. But somehow I don't think it will now they've cleaned up my arteries. The pacemaker sends data to the hospital to tell them of any weird heart rhythms, and so far it's sent them nothing but good news. 