Odds

All of my proverbial ducks are in a row. Everything is in order, including my living trust, will and closet.

So, what’s a woman to do while awaiting May 29 open-heart surgery? Fly to Las Vegas, of course. A few decadent days in Sin City may be just what the doctor ordered. Can’t hurt. With Maddie safely in our dog sitter’s care, my partner Rebecca and I left on a whirlwind Wednesday-to-Saturday junket, as my parents used to say. It was a long-planned trip to celebrate Rebecca’s milestone birthday. My cardiac care nurse at the University of Michigan urged us not to cancel. Just go and have fun, she said. The trip was short and sweet, and frankly, the only palatable way for me to experience the excesses of Vegas, where blue skies are painted on ceilings and strips aren’t just steaks. In four days, we gambled and won, lost, won most of it back, baked in 90-degree dry heat by the pool (thank God for mist fans), drank too much free booze, dined in a burlesque-style restaurant and saw superstar Jennifer Lopez perform her “All I Have” show at Planet Hollywood’s Zappos Theater. With seven costume changes, Lopez, a.k.a., J-Lo, a.k.a., Jenny from the Block, epitomized the glitz and glamour of a Las Vegas production. At 49, she’s a force of nature, whether descending a Swarovski crystal staircase in a stunning full-length evening gown or paying homage to her Latin roots in an oversized New York baseball jersey. She was simply amazing, an overused word I’m going to use over and over again to describe her non-stop, 90-minute show. Not surprisingly, I didn’t think about my upcoming mitral valve repair (MVR) surgery once the whole trip. Well, except when J-Lo’s sexy chaise lounge dance nearly sent me into atrial fibrillation. My Fitbit was off the charts. Visiting Vegas, I naturally started thinking about odds. If I were a betting woman, which I am, I’d wager about even money that I’ll come out of this just fine. Maybe, some say, even better than I feel now. The odds are definitely in my favor. And I take comfort in reading posts of patients worldwide who have survived and thrived after heart valve surgeries on a website I discovered by chance surfing online (heart.valve.surgery.com). For the most part, my optimistic side remains hopeful. Think positive. Keep the Faith. Trust the science. Sometimes, though, my head wants to explode. As former President Barack Obama said (never): This shit’s about to get real. Playing a cold (as in not paying off) video poker machine in a garishly decorated, loud and smoky casino where time and money are irrelevant, my reporter’s mind wandered:

• What are the risks of MVR surgery? Heart attack, stroke, death.
• How long does it take to recover? About four to eight weeks, depending on the patient.
• How long does the repair last? Studies show 95 percent of patients are free of reoperation after 10 years and about the same at 20 years.

During our flight home, I listened to a new playlist on my iPad called Feeling Fine. It was created for the sole purpose of helping me get through this heart stuff without driving myself or my partner crazy. Besides, music soothes my soul. And countless studies show listening to music reduces pain, anxiety and medication use before, during and after surgery. Turn it up. Making our final descent into Detroit, the Sara Bareilles song “Brave” started playing as if right on cue:

Say what you wanna say.

And let the words fall out.

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave.

Perhaps I’ll suggest the playlist to my surgeon.