This story has gone too far. There are too many plot crises. It is, simply, unbelievable.

I’ll try to do this quick. In November 2023, it became apparent I would require heart surgery. My heart was damaged by radiation treatment I received to cure cancer I was diagnosed with in my 40s. As they prepared for surgery and did all of their tests, they discovered my lungs were also damaged by the same radiation treatment. I had lung cancer. Given the state of my heart, they couldn’t operate on my lung and vice versa. It took a while for the medical team to figure out a safe way to move forward. (In fact, for a short time, I was told that there was no safe way to move ahead, nor would they if they didn’t think I would live two years. I spent several weeks believing nothing could be done.) Fast forward: open heart surgery to repair one of my valves in March 2024 and lobectomy in early May. Two back to back major surgeries. Another valve would have to be repaired, but that was “in the future.”

The future came fast. My recovery peaked in August. The second valve was failing and on January 16, 2025, I had a second open heart surgery to replace the second valve. Then, the unthinkable: they had to go back in and fix a problem that happened in that surgery. A week later, I had another sternotomy. This surgery did not have to touch my heart, but had to be done. Trust me: I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have to. That was Saturday. Now it’s Wednesday. I’m sitting up beside my bed. Typing.

It’s a miracle I’m alive. I’m going to settle for that now. Thank you to everyone who has kept me alive and a special thanks to all the friends and loved ones near and far who have kept me in their thoughts. Every time, I felt the Operating Rooms positively crowded with your good vibes. It helped.

Here’s the really wild part: This is not my story; it’s a story I keep getting pulled into. I hope it is ready to let go now. I have things to do, words to write, a garden to grow, a bike to ride, people to love.

Moody Sky