Fifteen miles into a long run, I arrived at the Rose Bowl stadium to complete two laps tagging along several of the Pasadena Pacers runners. Halfway into the first lap a bald chubby man strides pass me and yells, "Weak sauce!" I begin to chuckle as he runs beyond me. He then turns around and says, "Remember me Doc?!"
This man had been my patient 18 months ago in the cardiac care unit. I had treated him for a nasty anterior MI that required two drug eluding stents. Adding insult to injury, his hospital course was complicated by an ischemic stroke. Barely recognizable... he'd gone from morbid obesity to 'chubby status,' having lost well over 100 pounds in the span of 1.5 years. He flexed his right arm and made a waveform with his hands to demonstrate how the deficits from his lacunar stroke had resolved. I was bewildered; an obese man sprinting and grinning, haha. He gave me a hug, thanked me, and said I looked gaunt... We had a good laugh and talked for another half mile.
Once he appeared fatigued and over exerted, I gave him a tap in the back and sprinted away, "Hey! you don't look like Peter Griffith anymore. I expect to see you here three times a week! "