The Hard Days Still Come
A hot afternoon, a heavy knapsack, and a voice telling me to keep going long after I should have stopped — and what I’ve learned about knowing the difference.
cardiac recovery
Men, Vulnerability, and Real Talk
Something changed after my heart attack that made it easier to talk about the hard stuff — and I don’t think it was courage.
One Year Stronger
A year ago I sat with my finger hovering over a button. Terrified, excited, no idea where it would lead. This is what happened between that moment and now — the fear, the growth, and the year that changed everything.
What I’d Tell My Younger Self
If I could sit down with the man running those hotels before any of this happened, I know exactly what I’d tell him. Not slow down. Not stop dreaming. Master the art of delegation.
Learning to Respond, Not React
I’ve always known it’s better to respond than react — behind a bar, in a busy kitchen. But it took a heart attack to teach me to turn that same skill inward, on myself.
A Different Kind of Strong
Before my heart attack, strength was physical — kegs, timber, chainsaws, never a second thought. After it, I thought that strength was gone for good. What I found instead was something completely different — and worth so much more.
Why Me? Letting Go of Blame After a Heart Attack
After my heart attack, when the why me question hit, I already knew the answer. But not everyone does. And this week, losing a mate to a heart attack, that question came back in a different way entirely.
Who Am I Now?
When I walked back through my front door after my heart attack, I found the cushions on the floor, the bucket, my towel — and looked across at my family photos thinking I’d seen them for the last time. This is about the question nobody prepares you for after surviving a cardiac event. Who am I now?
Helping Others Without Losing Yourself
When you’ve been honest about your own struggles, people start opening up to you. But there’s a line — and I crossed it before I saw it coming. This is about helping others without running yourself into the ground.
Saying Goodbye to the Life Before
There’s a part of recovery nobody prepares you for. Not the physical side — the quiet grief that comes with saying goodbye to the life you had before. There’s even a name for it: ambiguous loss. This is about mourning the old life, and finding room for the new one.