A friend of mine wrote to say “good luck with your tests, remember there is no such thing as routine surgery, especially around the heart.” I smiled when I saw this note, and thought of my mother, who also had this gift of unnerving people she was trying to help.

Actually, there is such a thing as routine surgery around the heart, even Open Heart Surgery, once considered miraculous, has become the most common operation in America.

The catheterization of vessels for heart stents is now also one of the most common and safest surgical procedures in America if you consider catheterization surgery, which many people don’t.

The American Heart  Association says there is little chance of trouble.

The doctors insert a catheter into a heart vessel to check on how well the heart is working. When I first went for a heart cath, they said there was too much vessel damage for a stent, and they sent me to the hospital in an ambulance.

This procedure Monday should take a few hours and I should be home waking up from the drugs and even working Monday evening. I can ride my bike the next morning if I wish, said the doctors, and I can ride it every day now.

It is always possible they will come across something troubling or that they didn’t expect, but it is also possible that I’ll get run over on my bike or have a truck plow into the farm.

I’m trying to figure out who told everybody that there are no bumps or surprises in life.

But even common surgeries are complex – there are few things left in our world that are simple – and I’ve had a full week of tests, blood work, etc. in advance of the catheterization Monday.

I went to Saratoga Hospital for a Covid-19 test today – required for any surgery – and was warned how strange a test it was. It was not strange at all, it was simple, painless and over in five seconds.

It took much longer for me to answer all of the nurse’s questions (no, I have not been in any large crowds, there has never been a large crowd where I live) than the test.

She leaned into the car, swabbed the back of my tongue, and the test was over. There was no discomfort of any kind.

Then I went to the hospital to have blood drawn, another requirement before any kind of hospital procedure.

Friday, I’ll learn when to report to the hospital on Monday. I’ll bring an overnight bag just in case, but everyone says I should be home well before dinnertime.

Perhaps I can even get a bike ride in on Monday.

I plan to ride tomorrow morning, I see that I am really looking forward to riding my bike now, I am getting easier with the controls and the balance, I rode four or five miles this morning.

I bought a new and wider seat, some special underwear.

Soon, I’ll be riding every morning into town to check my post office box, six miles each way.

My cardiologist said she was sorry I might need a stent, but I said I was not sorry.

I am lucky to be alive now, this would have killed me even 20 years ago. And here I am, having sex, riding my bike, blogging every single day, taking photos,  kissing a donkey on the nose every morning, and working with a sweet Lab at my feet, and a sweet woman in bed.

I appreciate my friend’s concern for me, but there are two ways of looking at this. One is to say, oh dear, I’m having some heart surgery on Monday. The other is, thank God I’m having heart surgery on Monday. It means I am lucky and can keep my life.

People are asking if I’ll be writing my “One Man’s Truth” column next week, the answer is yes. I might skip Monday, depending on how drugged I am,  if so I’ll be writing Tuesday morning.

I am not in a mood to feel sorry for myself, I am drowning in riches.