My Dear Friends and Family, Just thirteen days ago my surgeon Dr. Bleiweis, and his surgical team, stopped my heart to transplant two heart valves and repair my aorta. This task turned out to be more difficult than we anticipated but not beyond the skills and experience of Dr. Bleiweis and his team of dedicated healers. Bravery…Kelly and my parents had the most difficult task of worrying throughout what evolved into a 9 hour surgical procedure (about twice as long as normal) and had little assurance I would be ok even after I emerged from surgery. Since I was unaware of my circumstances during surgery, I have included an excerpt of Mom’s account that she included in a recent letter of thanks. I am inspired by the bravery Kelly, Mom, Dad and Aunt Maria exhibited in the midst of my induced sleep. Prayer…Mom wrote: “I especially want all to know that on the day of his surgery, March 5, when we were informed that there was some difficulty and that there was bleeding they could not locate, requiring multiple transfusions [special thanks to all my directed blood donors-JT] and perhaps a return trip to the OR that night, I felt as though I was going to pass out with fear, I felt very concerned that he may have to undergo yet more hours of surgery and I felt weak, I did not know how I was going to stand up or how he was going to be able to tolerate going back to the OR. That afternoon, at noon, we had attended mass at the hospital chapel and at the end of the mass the priest said a special prayer to the Archangel Michael. The surgery was about half way at that time (started at about 8:30 am), and I felt a very special feeling of strength at the ending of the special prayer. And this was it: I envisioned the Archangel Michael, with a stern face, sword in hand in a stance of defiance, it was so odd, and he was standing at the feet of the OR table, higher than the rest, on what I know from being in the OR as OR steps that they can stack up for the surgeons to stand higher or someone observing to get a better view. It was so odd that I seemed to imagine an army of angels around the OR table and the doctors and the rest of the team. I told my sister about it because I began to cry and she had to be appeased that I wasn't going to get worse. Later on, that night, when the surgeon came to the waiting room to talk to us about all the good and bad possibilities (they do it kindly, but they do not mince words!) I think I drew my strength for the rest of the way on what I had "seen" in the OR during that special prayer. You see, my friends, I think that "army of angels" were you, all of those who were so hard at prayer for us, at St. Paul's and all of our families and friends around the world, who were also praying and we must all have been praying at the same time! John is at home tonight, having been discharged on the 5th day post op, as planned before any complications were considered. He is resting, in minimal pain, thankful to God and to all of us and you, his prayer warriors. God Bless you all. Mercy and John Turan (Sr)” Faith…I awoke from my surgery, still on a ventilator (breathing machine), unaware of the emotional rollercoaster my family had endured and unaware that I might need to return to the OR. However, I was overjoyed, not because I was on a ventilator, but because I knew the surgical team did the hard work to get me through the surgery and now the rest was up to me. The next morning, as they began to wean me off the ventilator, breathing became very difficult, but I knew this was only a test. They needed to be sure that I could breathe on my own so, since this was a test, I wasn’t about to give up. I sucked and I heaved for every molecule of air and bargained (in crude sign language) with the Anesthesiologist about moving up the time they would remove the tube. All the while, certain I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen and/or physical exhaustion. Well, it worked and they removed the ventilator and tube from my throat and chest at about 6:30 am the next day. The 3ft hose came out in one cooperative yank, a bizarre feeling I’ll never forget. I thought the worst was over… A strange day or maybe night…The first day or night (confused) off of the ventilator was marked with great confusion. This was most likely the result of narcotics meant to keep me comfortable. I remember only sporadic thoughts of helplessness. Thinking at times my heart rate was so slow it would stop, or so fast my new valves would burst. With frequency and confusion I would ask my Dad to summon help from Kelly and Mom (my personal nurses). I was unaware the entire intensive care staff was watching me every second. Each time I awoke, it seemed there was a different person there by my side. My anxiety was calmed by the constant vigil of my companions throughout the night. I don’t think I could have maintained my sanity for long without the knowledge that my family was by my side to keep me safe and secure. The worst is almost over…Going into this procedure I thought the worst experience would be the ventilator tube in my throat and chest. I was wrong. Lying in the bed I felt good enough to joke around and thought to myself, things were pretty good. That’s when the staff came in and said “let’s sit up a bit more and dangle your feet off the side of the bed”. Even with Kelly helping to keep me propped up at about 45 degrees I almost passed out. Surprisingly, the nurses said “Good job, later we’ll sit you up in the chair without oxygen”. Kelly reassured me that everything happening was normal. I was now struck with fear. I couldn’t even sit up partially and now they expect me to sit up 90 degrees in a chair and let gravity drag my blood to the floor? Fortunately, Dad was on duty when the time came to move me to the chair. He was armed with two pictures of Cooper and Brinley that Terri, the babysitter, had framed for us. I was about to get another lesson in faith. My world changed the moment I hit that chair. Suddenly, the fluid accumulating around my heart and lungs shifted making it impossible to expand my lungs and impairing my heart’s capacity to pump. The blood now had to be pumped from my feet on the floor up to my head. Attempting to expand my lungs was not only futile, it hurt, bad. I was sure something was wrong but didn’t have the spare oxygen to say anything accept “Pictures”. Dad understood, and he now held the pictures of Cooper and Brinley in front of me for motivation. As I fought for air and against the pain I stared at those pictures asking God for the strength to get through this moment of pain and fear so I could see my kids again. I was scared. This was the worst point. The point at which I thought something was critically wrong, either I would fall over or my heart repairs would fail under the intense pumping pressure. Over the next 30 minutes, a bit more fluid trickled out of my body through tubes in my chest. As it exited my lungs and chest, about 5 ounces in all, the vacancy left me with a bit more room to breathe. Now the worst was over. Walking the patient home…Later that day they took me for a walk. By “they” I mean one person to push the IV pole, another to carry my container draining chest fluids, another to push the wheeled chair holding the TV screen/heart monitor and a fourth person to steady me. We went a total of about 50 ft! However, I am happy to say that today I walked ½ a mile and look forward to extending that a bit more each day. I came home and continue with minimal pain and no narcotics, just ibuprofen and another pill to keep my heart rate down. I slept in my own bed, not the recliner, for the first time last night and I am able to shower without assistance. It’s these little things I took for granted. However, once I have accomplished a shower, then a rest, then a walk, then a rest, then another walk…my day is just about over as there is little energy or even time left for that matter. Next steps…My surgeons’ instructions at this point are to avoid getting sick, rest, recuperate and walk. My first follow up appointment is for Friday, March 14th when I plan to surprise the surgical team with better than expected physical and mental status. I am looking forward to starting my cardiac rehab at a special gym for patients like me where they will gradually challenge me beginning April and continuing thru September. Finally, I look forward to returning to work in June. Since I’ve returned, my home has been a revolving door of caregivers, babysitters and gift givers bringing food, love and support. I thank each of you for helping me prepare for surgery, for praying for me and my family during my surgery, and for supporting me now during my recovery. I am honored by the response I received and by the new friends I have made along the way. Thank you for being part of my life. Love, John P.S. I am celebrating each new day as a gift since my new 2nd Birthday, March 5, 2008.