Kind of sequel to my prior post

My father had issues with blood clots from his early thirties until the day he died. He had been in and out the hospital a number of times during those years.

One time dad was in the Holy Cross Hospital in Calgary awaiting a bypass operation some years ago. A doctor was walking down the hallway past my father's room, stopped after walking by the doorway, took a few steps back and exclaimed "My God! You're alive!"

My father's response was "Goddammit of course I'm alive!" Dad was understandably a bit on edge after receiving that greeting. Especially being in the hospital for an upcoming operation.

The doctor quickly apologized and said that is not exactly what he meant. The doctor said who he was but by that time dad knew who he was. I remember the doctor's name, after all this time I have no idea how to spell it. The doctor was a blood specialist and had been one of many who treated my father years before when he had an extended stay at a hospital in Vancouver.

The doctor explained that when he was in the hospital in Vancouver they were concerned they were going to lose him and he was ecstatic to see him after all these years. As an aside, apparently my father's file was one that he used in seminars and was discussed through the years.

Later during his stay dad had a meeting with Dr. Goldstein the surgeon. This doctor told my father that he would refuse to operate on him unless dad quit smoking. There was a bit of a discussion on that matter, the end result was that dad agreed to quit.

I had asked my father several times through the years to quit to no avail, you just need the right person to ask. Dad kept his word, he never touched another cigarette for the rest of his days, which was probably damn hard since I think he really enjoyed smoking.

You can quit if you have the proper motivation.