It takes a lot, even more than the six people whose picture I took in the Cardio-Cath Center recovery room at Saratoga Hospital. Dr. Yoram Amsalen, right, is the chief architect of my heart.

As often happens in life, it was more complicated than I expected. The surgery was long and intense, and it hurts. I’ve got a few days of hard recuperation ahead and a soft week or two (mild movement and exercise.) I won’t be on the bike today or tomorrow.

And Maria couldn’t come and visit.

I thought I would. Hubris is not just for Presidents.

I might get there next week.

The operation was a total success, says Dr. Yoral Amselam, the vessel in trouble now has a miracle stent embedded in it with a casing that contains anti-blocking medicine released in small doses. The vessel is 100 percent open, pumping precious blood into my heart.

An amazing thing. It takes a village to make an old man’s heart shine. In my case, there were about 10 people in that surgery.

I want to say a word about the stent Dr. Anselem put inside of a major heart vessel. It is from the SYNERGY company in Massachusetts. Technology can be a friend or an enemy, but people like me would not be alive without new technologies – like the stent.

The thing implanted into one of my heart arteries is a metal stent with a special drug coating added to help reduce the chance of the artery being blocked again.

The drug is released from the stent over the period of time during which re-blockage is likely to occur. The stent was designed to be highly flexible, allowing it to fit the shape of my artery.

My stent is made of a Platinum Chromium Alloy, which consists of platinum, chromium, the stent, and a balloon delivery catheter.

The other news – unexpected and unnerving but not bad – is that Dr. Amsalen believes there is a third artery leading to the heart that is not transmitting any blood and he wants me to undergo another and more complex cardio catheterization and surgery at the end of the September.

This will be at the giant Albany Medical Center, where I had my open heart surgery in 2014.

Dr. Amsalem wants to do it there because it is much more complex surgery than my stent procedure Monday, and there is some (not much) risk attached to it.

Dr. Ansemel wants it to be a major hospital facility if there’s trouble.

Saratoga Hospital is set up for small and medium trouble. If this procedure goes wrong, I’ll need intervention in a hurry. If I had this surgery in Saratoga and had trouble, they would have to rush me to Albany.

This way, I’m already there. If successful, all three major arteries to my heart will send blood to the heart at 100 percent capacity. I can repay my heart for all the damage I did it as a smoker and a drinker when I was young.

Dr.Amsalem says this surgery is optional.

My heart is in good shape and I don’t need to do it. He said he recommends it because he believes it will give me a strong heart that should carry me in a healthy way to the end of my life.

He said the risks were small and his confidence was quite high.

“Your heart is perfectly fine now,” he told me this morning,”but it can be even better.”

I want a big and f full heart.   I like the way Dr. Anselem thinks and I trust him. It isn’t something I have to do, it is something that will help give me the life I want.

The surgery reminds me and Maria of how much we mean to each other. And how much my life means to me.

I am a little surprised to see how much I like the idea.

I didn’t really hesitate. Maria said, “great, go for it.” I have no reservations, we set a date.

I have a lot to live for and I want to be here for Maria, the Farm, my readers, the animals, etc. With this surgery, I can take my bike all over the place.

I will be honest, the overnight stay was tough, sleepless, and uncomfortable. The vessel Dr. Amsalem used was deep into the thigh near the groin and it hurts.

But the nurses at the hospital were wonderful and so was he.

Maria picked me up this afternoon and brought me home. My heart feels strong. Because of all the fluids pumped into me, I felt short of breath when I lay down in my favorite chair in the living room.

I wanted to drag her upstairs, I think my heart is feeling some oats.

I trust Dr. Anselam completely, he is confident that he can pull off this surgery, he has been studying my heart for days and testing my heart in every imaginable way.

As I was wheeled into the surgery – a huge room that looked like a spaceship – a voice from above that sounded like the voice of God, from a window-lined control room  “are you the Jon Katz the author?”

I was, I mumbled, surprised. “I had a collie,” the voice said, “he was 14 when he died. I was heartbroken, and I read your book Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die. Thanks for it.”

Everyone was impressed. I think I blushed. “You’re a writer,” said  Dr. Anselam, “let’s make sure you keep on writing for a long time.”

Deal.

This operation in September involves getting a wire through the center of a blocked artery.

Any bumps and the artery is destroyed and there could be some damage.  It makes regular catheterization seem simple.

I wasn’t prepared for an overnight stay Monday night, I’d been assured I’d be home for dinner at the latest. I finished my novel in minutes, I had no charger for the iPhone and I was forbidden from getting out of bed without a nurse present. I was trapped, anxious, bored, and restless. And the pain was pretty severe.

I mostly listened to people cry out in pain for hours. I started feeling lonely and sorry for myself. But then something happened that changed my sad mood.

I met an angel in the hospital, and it brought me back to gratitude.

I want to write more about that this evening. It was a powerful thing to see and reminded me to be grateful for my life at all times and all costs.

The pain and suffering I have felt is a pea in the garden of suffering.