Was it the Wild Salmon?

"George, I don't feel pain! I don't feel pain!" It is eight o'clock Tuesday night. 
   We are inside the eleventh floor elevator of the Mercy Scripp's Hospital. Taxi driver Sam has just had his third procedure-the biggest so far. "My heart is Okay. They just need to monitor it. I am the luckiest Taxi man in the whole wide world."
    "Well I am going to take you for a treat. Sam, your the man. . We will eat Wild Salmon tonight. Ralph's is just two blocks away."
    "George, Albertson's Salmon is better and cheaper. Ralph's plasters their fish with too much paint. too much paint on their Salmon.  [places too much paint on theirs. I don't wish to die."
   Tonight we dine out, in front of Albertson's. We buy three packages of this wild fish, along with a bunch of grapes. A small round table sits in front of the store. It looks south over Washington Blvd and a number 10 bus that has just stopped. The #10 bus goes both ways to the Mercy hospital. But today San Diego set a heat record of 86. I am too smart to wait for buses in this heat.
   "George I can walk without sharp pain. It is a miracle."
    "Well Sam, your helped God along by losing thirty pounds. Just you wait. Your mind will see what you have missed before. All you need now is constant exercise, and your legs should feel more power now. Three of your legs have been cleaned, so everyday bike riding will keep it that way.
    "I can hardly wait to get on my bike. First, I wish to vacation in Mexico. Do you have a passport George? And you know George, the Wild Salmon in my diet, the fat oozed off my body. I have never felt so good. The loss of over thirty pounds kept me alive until Mr. Obama kicked in with my insurance.

   Monday morning, I had picked Sam up and drove him to the oldest hospital in San Diego. He was scheduled for possible a heart valve or bypass surgery. He made plans to have a Jewish burial. We arrived at  the hospital at one thirty. The surgery had been postponed two times. His insurance was dropped and reinstated twice-causing him unneeded anguish. On the second floor, he was led in at  2:30.
  Monday evening I returned. I heard his voice from room 1107. . "That is Big George. I hear his voice." A nurse removed herself and I took her place. He looked excited when he saw me. He wore a black Yalmaka over his head and held a prayer book in one hand. I set down the black bag that carried his cell phone.
   "George, before the surgery,  the doctor told me a heart operation was not needed. operation on my heart was not needed. 'The root of all of your pain is the blockage in the leg.' A feeling of joy came over me. I am hungry. Can you go and get me Wild Dry Salmon? Make sure it is the pepper kind.
    The first time I went to the Ralph's store on the south corner of Washington. They did not have the pepper kind but bought him two anyway. I treated myself to the biggest fried chicken breasts and drove back to room 1107 on the eleventh floor.
   I felt exhausted but higher than a kite. Sam and I had met over two years ago in a small  Jewish church off of Third and Island. We both studied the Old Testament. Both of us were reborn Jews. Little Sam  ate, and breathed the Talmud, while I gave it lip service since I walk in his shoes.
   The rest of the story came at the beginning. He desires to go to Israel and make a new start with a wife and kids. The good Mercy Hospital and its Doctor Kildaire made it happen. Tuesday evening I drove a new Sam home. The excitement had caught up to both of us.
   Last night, I slept soundly, only to get up five times for Mother Nature. (Now edited)