Defying Fate: The Journey of a Survivor

Saved by a Mexican miracle

If it weren't for advances in medical technology, I wouldn't be writing this. Health challenges are a part of life that none of us can avoid. I've faced my share, including a collapsed lung in 1977, diverticulitis in 1995, and a sublingual hernia in 2016.

More recently, I've encountered three critical health issues that were matters of life and death. Without prompt and effective intervention, I wouldn't have survived. I feel incredibly fortunate to have been diagnosed early for each condition and to have received world class care.

Leading the charge on my more recent health challenges was prostate cancer. During my routine annual checkup in 2018, my primary care doctor informed me that my PSA blood test results were alarmingly elevated. The notion that I could be facing cancer blindsided me; I was in prime health otherwise, and there was no known history of prostate cancer in my family. The question "Why me?" undoubtedly echoes in the minds of many who are handed this cancer diagnosis.

Shortly after, I underwent a biopsy that verified the presence of cancer. Fortunately, it was caught in its early stages, with only a few cells affected. Immediate action was necessary. My options ranged from surgical removal of the prostate and radiation therapy to watchful waiting until the condition worsened, or exploring new, largely experimental treatments.

The day following my diagnosis, I consulted with a surgeon at a renowned hospital in Tucson, eager to address the potential crisis at hand. The surgeon, well-regarded within the Tucson medical community for specializing in this precise procedure, unfortunately did not make a favorable impression on me. Rather than feeling like a valued patient, I felt akin to a customer at a used car dealership, being persuaded to undergo surgery despite the potential for side effects. My interaction with him felt impersonal, more like being part of an assembly line than a human needing care. His person to person approach, often referred to as a physician’s bedside manner did little to instill confidence.

I scheduled an appointment with a radiation oncologist but continued my search for alternatives. Then, I had a moment of inspiration and decided to explore options at the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, renowned globally for its medical expertise. I secured an appointment with a surgeon there who specialized in prostate removal and met him a week later. The experience was positive; his professionalism was immediately apparent. He shared that he had successfully performed hundreds of such surgeries over the past decade. His demeanor was calm, collected, and he swiftly gained my confidence.

In our discussion about treatment options, he acknowledged that radiation might be effective but warned that it didn't guarantee the cancer wouldn't recur. He recommended surgery as the definitive solution, ensuring the complete removal of cancer with a one-time procedure. He mentioned possible side effects, such as decreased sensitivity, but also noted that there were strategies to manage these post-surgery.

Before proceeding, however, I needed to undergo some tests. One of these tests uncovered a genetic condition known as aortic stenosis, indicating that one of my heart valves was faulty and would need replacing in the future. Despite this, I was deemed fit enough to undergo the surgery.

Eight weeks later, I underwent the surgery. It was uncomfortable but bearable. However, the week following the surgery, during which I had to live with a catheter, was exceptionally challenging and felt like the longest week of my life. The discomfort was nearly unbearable, and the night before the catheter was to be removed, I found myself extremely anxious. Attempting to distract myself, I turned on the television, only to find every channel broadcasting Donald Trump’s visit to North Korea and his meeting with Kim Jong-un.

The following day, I returned to the Mayo Clinic for a follow-up, and the catheter was finally removed. The relief I felt was indescribable. My first stop was a medical marijuana dispensary, followed by a delightful sushi dinner. Later that evening, my then-wife and I attended an unforgettable concert by Ivan Lins at the Musical Instrument Museum.

I’ve been a fan of Ivan Lins for many years, having seen him perform several times in New York at the Blue Note. However, this performance was extraordinary. He was accompanied by an outstanding band, including Helio Aves, a remarkable Brazilian pianist now residing in New York, and the talented drummer Gary Novak, whom I last heard play with Chick Corea.

It was a night of music that stands out in a lifetime filled with memorable performances. The concert was not just enjoyable; it was therapeutic, offering a profound sense of healing.

Following the surgery, a challenging aftermath was the departure of my wife. The reasons behind her leaving were unclear to me—whether it stemmed from potential changes in our intimacy post-surgery or her previous nursing career's influence, where the emotional toll of losing patients she grew close to led her to switch to an administrative role.

Two years later, prior to the onset of the pandemic, I connected with Sherrie, an artist, on match.com. With a history that included a live-in girlfriend in the early '70s and three marriages, my expectations for finding a new partner at the age of 70 were not high. Yet, upon meeting Sherrie, it quickly became evident that we were deeply compatible; soulmates.

During the pandemic, we spent a considerable amount of time together and found a mutual desire for a change from our lives in Tucson. After thorough research, Sherrie proposed moving to Guanajuato, a place I had never heard of and initially mistook for a medical condition rather than a location. Despite having lived in Arizona for two decades, my experiences in Mexico were limited to a single beach town visit and occasional trips to Nogales, a border town. I understood that a border town wasn't representative of an entire country.

Sherrie had visited Guanajuato (GTO) ten times and had a deep affection for it. Inspired by her enthusiasm and after viewing numerous videos about the place, we decided to visit as the pandemic restrictions began to lift, planning a road trip for me to experience it firsthand.

However, four weeks before our scheduled trip, on my birthday, August 1, 2021, I experienced some chest discomfort. Given my history of a potential heart valve issue, I opted for a hospital visit to undergo some tests. Three days later, the verdict was clear: I required immediate bypass surgery along with a valve replacement.

The prospect of open heart surgery was daunting; I was well aware of its severity. This operation, lasting around six hours, involved opening the chest, maintaining bodily functions with a machine, and performing complex surgical procedures.

I consulted with a cardiologist who recommended a surgeon renowned in Tucson for his expertise in such surgeries. His confidence and skill convinced me to proceed under his care. The surgery was a success, and although there was pain post-operation, my recovery was swift. Eight weeks later, when I visited the hospital, the surgeon hardly recognized me, commenting on my uncharacteristic rapid recovery. Shortly after, I received clearance for our postponed trip to Mexico. By our second day in Guanajuato, I was so captivated by the city that I expressed to Sherrie my desire not to return to the U.S.

We went back to Tucson, sold our properties at a market peak, and officially moved to Guanajuato on May 15, 2022. Nearly two years have passed since I became an expat, and my affection for our new home only continues to grow.

The quality of healthcare in Mexico has generated considerable discussion. Sherrie identified a superb dentist whose services were significantly less expensive than those in the U.S., and through word-of-mouth, we found an outstanding primary care provider. My health has remained fairly consistent for the last few years. It was business as usual for my aging body.

We were introduced to a gerontologist who recommended infusion therapy; instead of consuming vitamins and supplements orally, we opted for a monthly transfusion, which proved to be a more effective delivery system. She also recommended stem cell therapy, a treatment not commonly practiced in the United States to improve our immune systems.

Shortly after I started this treatment, the gerontologist monitoring my progress noted that finding a good vein to initiate the infusion was difficult. Upon examining my heart, she recommended that I get an immediate echocardiogram and a sonogram, as well. The results revealed substantial blockages in three coronary arteries, which were dense with plaque and cholesterol, a lethal combination. Witnessing the visual proof during the sonogram, much like seeing a baby in the womb, indicated a condition often referred to as a "widowmaker.” I was somewhat taken aback. This imagery didn't suggest the beginning of life; rather, it hinted at its impending end.

Claudia Ravulcabo, our gerontologist, reassured me there was no cause for alarm. She explained that the blockage could be effectively treated with a stent and angioplasty, a minimally invasive procedure that doesn’t require surgery.

Furthermore, she mentioned that this condition was quite common among her patients and recommended a trusted cardiologist in Leon, Dr. Ramon Bautista Lopez, who was also a family friend. Claudia managed to schedule an appointment for me. Accompanied by Claudia's psychologist daughter, Naomi, I traveled for an hour to reach León.

The professional networks in Mexico often blur into personal connections, and upon arrival, I was greeted with a warmth that felt like being among family. "Are you experiencing any symptoms?" he asked. I shared that my only noticeable change was feeling more fatigued than usual. After reviewing my tests, he explained that one artery required immediate attention, while the others could be managed with medication. His assurance gave me the confidence to trust him with my life, which I gladly did. His dark skin suggested Indigenous roots, perhaps Aztec or Mayan.

His arrival in my life underscored the importance of timing; he was the miracle worker I needed at just the right moment, embodying the kind of serendipity one finds only in Mexico.

The procedure was carried out the day before Easter in a contemporary, private Mexican hospital, which mirrored the standards of an American hospital, with the exception of superior cuisine. After it was over, I indeed felt reborn, how appropriate the day before Easter.

Although the surgery was initially expected to last an hour, it extended to nearly two hours. The morning after, the good doctor explained that the cholesterol was particularly challenging to remove, believing it had probably been there for years. My condition appeared to be hereditary. It became clear that if the problem had not been promptly diagnosed and remedied, I could have suffered a severe stroke and/or heart attack with potentially fatal outcomes.

Today, I find myself deeply appreciative of the precious gift of existence. To say I'm merely grateful doesn't fully capture the depth of my feelings. I often ponder the reasons behind my continued journey through life, recognizing the complexity and mystery that accompany our presence in this world. The reasons behind the events of our lives, why certain things unfold as they do, remain elusive. I've known many remarkable individuals, dear friends and admired souls, who are no longer with us. And yet, here I am, moving forward.

Near the end of his life, a group of reporters asked one of my mentors, the esteemed author Ben Hecht, if he possessed any insights on life. His reply: I only know one thing, how to keep going.

I don't claim to understand the essence of existence, our purpose on this Earth, or what follows our departure from this life. My heart aches for my homeland and the current turmoil engulfing our world. While I recognize my limitations in effecting global change, I commit to dedicating my efforts to my work, nurturing love, and assisting others to the best of my ability in my remaining years in this timeslot. Helping one person at a time is within my power and that's the approach I choose to take.