Ben's Posts

Someone told me on the eve of my surgery that now is not the time to be exceptional. Most people zoom through this surgery without any serious issues. Most people are also out of the hospital in five days. Today was my discharge. Quick math shows you I was in for way longer than that. What happened? I guess I decided to be exceptional. I just can’t help myself. When they rebooted my heart everything went amazing. Whirred right up. No issues, closed me up, and I was off to ICU. Except my kidneys did not come back online. Impossible to know why, for sure. Could be the 284 minutes on the bypass machine. Could be the 26 minutes I was in suspended circulation. Could be the five hours of propofol that kept me nice and asleep during it all. Nobody knows. Ended up staying in ICU for five days. Kidneys continued to get worse and they almost had to pull the trigger on dialysis. Then on day five, they suddenly turned the corner. A very slow corner. But day over day they started kicking back in and as of today they’re borderline normal. Given the trend, the doctor was more than convinced I’m going to recover and was ready for discharge. This is why the discharge day kept changing. It’s why I went in expecting to be walking the city streets by Sunday and here we are a week later than that. I cannot express enough gratitude for all of the surgeons, doctors, nurses and other staff at Mount Sinai Hospital. Gratitude to my employer for giving me the time I needed to prepare to focus on healing for the next two months. My wife who is watching all five kids like the superhero she is. I can’t wait until I can see them all again. Grateful for my amazing mother who met me in NYC and sat with me all day every day even when I was mostly unconscious (and that was most of it). My dad for making space in his life to be alone for two weeks while my mom could be here. My friends who’ve cheered me on and prayed for me, those who’ve shared their personal experiences as well with this. I absolutely believe your prayers helped carry me through so much of this. I’m grateful to the various heart surgery support groups online who let me in the door and talked me through the whole journey. You are all doing the Lord’s work out there. I know this is just the beginning of Ben 2.0. There’s a long recovery road ahead here but I got this. With all of you by my side through all of this, how could I let you down now? Forty two more years. Let’s go.

All right folks, this is it. In just under twelve hours, I'll be sitting in a waiting room, probably in a gown and very little else, getting ready to have my heart refurbished. Forty two years I've known this was coming. And in all that time it never really bothered me until the last few months. Both physically and emotionally. Physically, I've started getting a bit short of breath when I walk upstairs, and the first hints of chest pain started just today. Emotionally, I panicked when the cardiologist told me it was time. I've had a good run these past forty two years. A wonderful family, imperfect in all the right ways. I've lived on three continents*, visited four**, climbed five or six mountains, visited forty seven states (someday, Nebraska--someday), and had a pretty good career. But the thing that scared me most was the thought of not getting to see my kids grow up. Of not seeing grandkids someday. But in the past few weeks, after deciding on a plan of action and a phenomenal surgical team, I'm at peace. I know that if I do nothing, I won't see next Christmas. No matter how scary that six hour nap and the recovery afterwards look from this side of it, I *know* that on the other side of it I've got about forty two more years ahead of me. Plenty of time to get to Nebraska, Alaska, Maine. Plenty of time to get to Africa, South America, Antarctica. Plenty of time for grandkids, and maybe even some great grandkids. They're going to be doing some major work tomorrow--Ross procedure with an aneurysm repair. It's going to be a tough recovery. I've been through all of this once before but I was barely two weeks old--I don't remember any of it. And after my six hour nap tomorrow, I've got a tough job ahead of me. A lot of breathing exercises, a lot of walking--but walking is something I'm pretty good at. I was made to do this. Am I scared? Oh yes--but mostly of waking up intubated. My gag reflex is legendary. I hope I'm so drugged up I don't remember any of the ventilator. That's it, that's all I'm worried about. And even that I know I can get through--I have to--because on the other side of all of this is forty two more years with my family. Surgery starts at about 9 AM Eastern. I probably won't be awake until 5 PM or later. I doubt I'll be in any way capable of posting anything or updating anyone. I'll post something as soon as I'm able to. I'm staying in Mount Sinai Hospital on 5th Avenue for at least five days. They're hoping to discharge me on Monday, God-willing. And then a follow-up a week after that, then I'm headed home to family. Prayers appreciated, as usual. I'll be back in no time. * I'm counting Japan as Asia ** And New Zealand as Australia. Look, I landed there for a few hours!

Boarding my flight to NYC, Ross procedure at Mount Sinai on Wednesday the 11th. Had to say goodbye to family at the airport, but I’ll have my mother meet me at the hospital to help out. Absolutely wild time to have to have such a major surgery. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous at all, but I’m in good hands and well, if I DON’T have this surgery, I definitely won’t see next Christmas with my kids. So here we go... Thanks to everyone for all of your support so far. Looking forward to being on the recovery side of this thing and starting a whole new journey...