This guy

This guy. He helped save me twice.

We met more than 20 years ago to discuss my course of treatment for “something behind my heart.” I was 41. He was, I know now, just three years my senior.

This guy seemed older, but not because of some avuncular demeanor with big ears or errant nose hairs. Short, tanned and handsome, he treated me more like a sister than a stranger. He cared.

This guy wasn’t just my cardiologist. He was warm, funny and downright silly at times. He wore kindness on the sleeve of his white coat.

Unlike some doctors, he never seemed to take himself too seriously, except when warranted. This guy was a real person.

I was lucky, and the something behind my heart was a cardiac tumor the size of a tennis ball. It was called a benign hemangioma. Not cancerous. Operable. Removed.

It was only afterward during my recovery in the summer of 2001 that I became more aware of his deeper misgivings: “You know you scared the shit out of us, right, kid?” he said in his characteristic, no-nonsense style.

Then he smiled that million-dollar smile.

Those first five years after that surgery were nail-biters, for sure: annual heart CT scans and then heart MRIs to make sure the tumor didn’t grow back. It didn’t. 

All was well. Then annual checkups to make sure things stayed copacetic.

This guy always made me feel as if I was his one and only patient. After a bear hug, we’d spend a few extra minutes talking about family, golf and life. As precious as his time was, he never hurried or watched the clock.

I learned of his death Sunday morning in a text from my oldest sister.

“Sad news. Did you know Dr. Almany died 3/17? In today’s Freep.” (Sad face emoji.)

No, I didn’t know he had died. Hell, I didn’t even know he was even sick. This can’t be true.

This guy, my cardiologist, retired suddenly in June 2021. It was a surprise to me and many others, I imagine. Too young and vital to retire.

The tone of his letter sent to patients prompted more questions than answers. It said he had encountered numerous health challenges that made it impossible for him to continue his practice. “Not a voluntary or easy decision.” “Circumstances out of my control.”

Then he apologized for the inconvenience or anxiety it brought, adding how much my trust and friendship meant to him. That it was the privilege and honor of his lifetime to help take care of me.

This guy. I honestly hoped it was nothing serious, and that perhaps he had needed a break, and wanted to kick back and spend more time with his family.

Grateful, I sent him a card congratulating him on his retirement and thanking him once again for his part in keeping me alive. “People like you make the world better,” it read.

Sadly, his obituary ran in Sunday’s Detroit Free Press:

Dr. Steven Almany, 64, of Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, passed away peacefully on March 17, 2022, after a prolonged illness. His family, including his wife of 30 years, Amy, and his children, Matthew, Michael and Brett, were by his side.

He had been undergoing care at Royal Oak Beaumont Hospital, a place he knew well, having trained and practiced there for nearly 40 years, as a leading cardiologist, and as one of the founding partners of Michigan Heart Group.

His last days were filled with memories and well wishes from some of the lifetime collection of friends and colleagues he had shared time with in those roles.

Steve was born in May 1957 in Detroit as the only son of the late Ben and Joyce Almany. He graduated from Grosse Pointe North High School, and later from Michigan State University and the Michigan State University College of Human Medicine. He trained at William Beaumont Hospital, where he served as Chief Medical Resident and then as a Cardiology Fellow, serving also as Chief Fellow.

He began in practice by helping form the Michigan Heart Group, a practice he helped build for the remainder of his life. He served in leadership roles in cardiology, helping as head of the Cath Lab, and eventually helping start the Structural Heart Lab. He trained hundreds of cardiologists and students.

Steve also took care of thousands of patients, whose gratitude and respect has endured over time.

Dr. Almany also had a keen insight and was drawn to medical device innovation, parlaying that talent into a successful role as one of the general partners at the highly successful Biostar Ventures, a role he continued over the past 15 years. He was author of numerous patents and served on multiple boards in the medical device world with distinction.

Steve’s home life was dominated by his three sons, whom he coached in sports and helped direct during their own very successful academic careers. Matthew and Michael are currently medical students at Wright State University, and Brett is a student at Michigan State University.

He was also a father to three dogs – Bob, Ted and currently Sam – all yellow Labradors completely devoted to him and his family. He contributed to numerous charities, including Michigan State University and the Humane Society, two causes he felt very close to.

We met again in early 2018. I had had a sudden episode of atrial fibrillation due to a leaky mitral valve. Before undergoing another open-heart surgery to repair the valve, I required a heart catheterization to make sure there were no blockages in my arteries.

We hadn’t seen each other in a while. So, we reminisced while I was under the influence of some excellent twilight drugs.

I remember it all. How his eyes lit up when I asked about his sons. I could almost see that smile through his surgical mask. We talked a little bit about the MSU Spartans and golf, which he adored, but he wasn’t playing as much because of a bad back. Oh, and how he beamed about his beloved dog. Life was good.

In May 2018, I had heart surgery to repair the valve. It was rough, but I recovered. He was pleased, and we met for my annual December checkups in 2019 and 2020, the last time.

I spent the better part of Sunday morning thinking about Dr. Almany. Not surprisingly, I cried like a baby.

My wise friend Emily says we form special bonds with doctors who give us our life back. She’s right.

He died on St. Patrick’s Day. Perhaps merely a forever reminder of how lucky we were to have had him for as long as we did. His family will celebrate his life with a summer memorial at their home.

RIP, Dr. Almany. Thanks for taking such good care of me.