Yesterday, I had the privilege of witnessing two of the most amazing hours of my life at the Albany Medical Medical Center, where Dr. Yoram Amsalem, a Saratoga based cardiovascular specialist, restored a long bypassed and abandoned primary artery to my heart.

And I got to watch some of the best parts.

To me, this was an almost unbelievable and stunning cardiac intervention, a very powerful lesson in what science can and does accomplish and which so many of us take for granted.

My heart was applauding and taking a bow right in front of me.

Anyone who tells you there is no such thing as science is a fool waiting for a life lesson.

I was sedated but wide awake as Dr. Amselem opened up a second heart artery of mine in less than a month. I couldn’t believe he did and what I saw on a giant screen in a surgical lab in the giant Albany Medical Center Facility.

Dr. Amselem entered an artery in my wrist and moved a wire through it up to a major artery in my heart, opened the artery up, and placed a stent inside to keep this very key artery open.

I was in Albany because I needed a backup – a cardiac emergency surgeon – nearby, if the wire injured my heart or damaged one of the arteries, it was passing through.

There is only a one or two percent chance of that or worse happening, but the consequences can be dire if it does.

It was a winding road from there to here.

The Albany Medical Center has the resources to move in quickly if that occurs.

When I had my open heart surgery in 2014, surgeons decided the right interior artery – a major artery – was too dangerously blocked to try to open, and they abandoned it. Heart disease, I am learning, is neither cut and dry or bounded.

It is with you for life, and you have to deal with it for life.

Instead of trying to open that very important artery in 2014,  the surgeon constructed a bypass artery that gave my heart some help, but not nearly as much blood and support as a major natural artery.

One of the transplanted new arteries also became blocked over the past six years and was opened by Dr. Anselem last month.

After Dr. Anselm completed the first catheter intervention in Saratoga Hospital, he called up Maria afterward while I was in recovery and then came to see me in the recovery room.

He said he had been studying my heart and saw an opening in the abandoned artery. He said there was a 70 to 80 percent chance of succeeding. Dr. Anselem is always available, always patient, always honest.

He said he thought he had a good chance of opening me up, which would be a major boon to my heart.

Bypass arteries save lives but are not always as strong or long-lasting as natural major arteries. The heart needs all the blood it can get.

My liberated artery, the right pulmonary veins, on the left.

Dr. Ansalem drew me a map of my heart and the affected arteries, told me he needed to do more research, and then called me later to say he wanted to proceed with the operation.

I readily agreed. The thought of all my major heart arteries functioning at 100 percent of capacity for years was not something I was going to pass up.

In most cardiovascular catheter procedures, the patient is sedated but kept awake so he or she can answer some of the questions the doctor might have (in my case, he asked me to breathe deeply several times at key moments, like when the balloon opened up).

Interventional cardiologists like Dr. Anselem do angioplasty, which opens narrow arteries. They use a long, thin tube called a catheter that usually has a small balloon on its tip.

They inflate the balloon at the blockage site in the artery to flatten or compress the plaque that has formed along the artery wall and stopped the flow of blood to the heart.

In 2014 I had a heart attack and had “open-heart surgery,” which means I was connected to a heart-lung bypass machine while surgeons repaired and replaced heart muscles, valves, arteries, the aorta, or other large arteries connected to the heart.

In my case, two arteries were replaced; my surgery was called a double bypass.

Reviewing my heart for the intervention last month, Dr. Anselem saw a chance to open up this other major artery as well, something other doctors decided was too risky to do.

I also talked about this with my regular cardiologist Dr. Daraban and my nurse practitioner, Amy Eldridge. They both agreed it was well worth trying.

Heart disease is often a by-product of diabetes, which I also have. It seems all those stories we hear about genetics, smoking, drinking, and processed food are quite true. Most people don’t believe it quite in time; it’s good to pay attention to some warnings.

I saw some of this astonishing medicine while I turned my head, and some were shown to me after the procedure. I’m fairly squeamish and usually don’t look when blood is drawn from my arm or hand.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off of Dr. Anselem’s wire and stent (with what the techs all called a “roto-rooter” tiny stone humming at the end)

The wire opened my left for dead artery and moved slowly and carefully up until the artery was opened, and I could see it come to life like a time-capsule flower and begin giving my heart the blood it wants and deserves (and needs.)

It was an out of body experience to watch my heart pumping away on this major new blood source. The modern stents last a decade or more, which should take me to the end or close.

I can already feel a significant difference in my heart, although I just got home around 5 p.m. Friday and need to rest through the weekend. I should be able to resume almost all normal activities and some new ones next week.

I can’t relate how transfixed – even awestruck – I was to watch this.

The entry point is painful and tender. What I remember most is this rotating wire, this cardiovascular roto-rooter buzzing all the way up my arm as it made its way to my heart. My right arm was actually humming. I’ve never felt anything quite like it.

And then I was blessed to see my heart swell with gratitude and excitement! This was a mystical and spiritual experience I will never forget.

My doctors are now also concerned about my carotid arteries in the neck; I’m getting these tested next week, and if necessary, will undergo a third intervention.

I wasn’t happy to hear this at first, and it may not be necessary.

But if asked, I wouldn’t dream of saying no.

This procedure has also become fairly routine but is complex and bloodier, as it supplies blood directly to the brain and requires two or three weeks of recovery and much more discomfort.

This is a lot of medicine for me or anybody else in a short time. My heart is already stronger and healthier than it’s been for many years. But if the carotid arteries are also treated (if necessary), I will have radically reduced stroke chances or further heart failure, a great gift to people with diabetes and heart disease.

Whenever I whine or lament all this medical intrusion, I remember to give thanks for the hope and health I am being offered.

I’ll figure that out next week, my bike will have to wait a little longer, but I can resume my walks on Sunday and cardia rehab on Tuesday. It’s exhausting and uncomfortable to do this, but also liberating and exhilarating.

How lucky I am to have this work done on my faithful but often mistreated heart. How extraordinary to witness the modern magic that enables a physician to repair my heart’s sustaining nourishment while I can watch.

Last week, I dreaded checking out my carotid arteries.

Now, I relish it. I’ve been given a chance at rebirth an a full and meaningful participation in life. I had to stay overnight at the hospital in Albany, and I didn’t leave until mid-afternoon today.

I had all afternoon to relish this hopeful embrace of life.

I want all the life I can have.  I want to move forward. Only an ingrate could complain about that. I feel strong and clear. Like James Baldwin, I can’t be a pessimist because I am alive.

My head is still reeling from this “intervention,”  and I will write more about it once I get some sleep.

You do not ever sleep much in a hospital. I am grateful for the gift of life and for a partner who wants to walk this road alongside me every step of the way.

Got to stop now. More later.