Remembering Luna

This weekend marks the second anniversary of the death of Luna, the sweet and funny Fox terrier mix who was in my life for 10 years and was my companion (or assistant) for many years as I worked from home. She made me a better human being. (The photo below was taken in Islamorada. She loved the Keyes.)

She had a good life of 17 years and one month. A lover of sushi on Friday nights and chicken anytime, she was the best loving dog I have ever known and she taught me so much about taking care of a dog, which has helped me with Chuchy, the Pomerarian that belongs to my sister but I care for as needed. Luna witnessed and experienced so much of my personal history over 10.5 years before she died.

She got to meet and know my late parents and even took rides with us to Publix. When her other papi was away in Costa Rica, she slept in my childhood bedroom in Miami Beach, my rental apartment in Coral Gables and then my studio condo in Coral Gables where for some reason, she enjoyed sleeping on my head. (I never understood that but she would race up the stairs as soon as we got out of my car.)  The place was super quiet which she appreciated.

When I had my two bladder cancer surgeries, she snuggled up to me and never left my side. She sensed what I was going through and I remember just being able to hold her for comfort. I was her second papi.

The same goes for my heart surgery recovery. She was there keeping me company and supported me in her own sweet way, just by being there and sitting next to me.  Even after I took her for short walks because my body was still recovering and I was out of breath, she was still in my face literally. :) (See video below.)

When I temporarily moved to New York, she visited me twice and enjoyed sitting on my old blue sofa (from Coral Gables) and running around Central Park (she sprinted for at least a mile and I couldn't keep up with her.)

Here she is taking a stroll in the Upper West Side with her other daddy for Thanksgiving week.

Luna even inspired the character of Amiga in my last novel "Six Neckties" with her unique black-spotted butt and funny personality. She was also so patient when I sketched her and she gave into me (or indulged me) when I snapped a photo of her next to the portrait. We were glued to the hip. We were a team.  I knew her and she knew me.

I never knew my heart could expand with so much love, thanks to Luna. I will always miss her. I was her Johnny or "Gnocchi" as I was referred to.

This video was the last I took of her two days before she departed the earth. (In the background, I was rewatching "Brothers and Sisters" from ABC and she was snuggling up next to me, as always.)

From the Heart Part 3

It's been almost three months since I had open heart surgery to remove an aortic aneurysm. I can finally say that the chest soreness and breastbone pain are gone. I can sneeze or cough freely without having to quickly grab a pillow and press it up to my chest so that my sutures don't pop out.

The zipper-like scar that lines the center of my chest is fading. I have gotten used to it. Six weeks after my surgery, my surgeon and his physician assistant lifted the physical restrictions they had me following. Now I can drive, lift light weights, swim, and more importantly, run, one of my favorite things to do.

I returned to running last month.  I began modestly, running half a mile. I did not want to overdo it, knowing that I have new piping in my heart. A side affect from the surgery is that I sometimes feel and hear my heart pumping. It's strange and unnerving. Who wants to hear their heartbeat in their ears? It's weird but I was told that would eventually go away. 

Although my doctors cleared me to exercise,  they strongly suggested that I do not over do it with the running and weights even though I was feeling good.

"Don't go lifting 200 pounds now, Johnny,'' my surgeon said. "Start at 10 pounds. Take it easy. Progress slowly. Listen to your body." 

Like a blinking yellow traffic light, caution ran through my head as I began to hit the pavement. Instead of running like a colt, I slowly jogged, which felt like I was running in place and not going anywhere but I was moving and that was the goal.

Other runners, mostly University of Miami students, whooshed by me but that didn't matter. I was going to run on my own terms. This was not a race. This was me literally getting back on my feet. When I reached my half mile goal, I smiled. A great sense of accomplishment washed over me. I did it!  

I couldn't believe that just a few weeks before, my chest had been cut open. I was in the hospital for five days attached to a tangle of IVs. I could barely move around without feeling searing pangs of pain in my torso. I finally recovered, cured of the aneurysm, untethered from the paranoia and fear of it suddenly bursting. Running was my way of celebrating that feat.

It felt so good to run again, the freedom that it brings. The breezes tickled my face, the sweat beaded on the back of my neck and my shadow accompanied me each way as if watching out for me. Knowing that I could get around on my own boosted my confidence. 

I enjoyed running to the tropical rhythms of Jimmy Buffet such as “Brown Eyed Girl” and The Beach Boys including "Sloop John B." These songs always put me in a good mood. I imagined I was back in the Keys and gazing at the various shades of blue in the water. I also ran to a medley of Pussy Cat Dolls hits because their infectious pop-dance songs make me want to run faster and their lyrics are fun to bounce along to.  "Tip top, drip drop, Bottles drop, lips lock..."

My confidence continued to blossom. I began running a mile which is what I am doing lately. Again, I do not want to over do it.  My doctors told me that my heart was stopped for about 2.5 hours during the 5 hour surgery so they could cut out the aneurysm. The heart was kept cool with a special fluid while I was hooked up to a bypass machine which did the work of my heart and lungs. I do not want my heart to suddenly stop because I overexerted myself with the running and weights.

My goal is to eventually return to 2 and 3 mile runs, my previous routine. But I am in no rush. I know it will happen. I am already half way there.

 

More from the Heart

My editors at the New York Times asked me recently to share my open heart surgery and what that experience was like in the middle of a pandemic. This is a different version from my previous blog post on how I discovered the aortic aneurysm and how I went about getting it repaired.

In the new piece, I dive into the decision making process of holding off on surgery (for months) because of the coronavirus crisis. Other patients are doing the same, delaying important procedures. I also highlight the various coronavirus protocols I observed during my five-day hospital stay at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami Beach where I had the surgery. 

Below is the print version of the piece which was published Sept. 23 in the A section.  In case you are wondering, I am doing well. I still have some chest soreness which is expected and should last a few more weeks.  The scar on my chest is healing well. I've already become used to it.  Once the soreness is gone, I will able to run (and sleep on my side again.)