Dear Members,
I hope you are finding time to spend with friends and family this summer. Michigan summers are notable for the many hours of daylight. Our cottage is north of the 45th parallel so the sun is up before 6 a.m. and sets after 10 p.m. This allows for extra hours of fun with the kids, but leads to challenging negotiations at bedtime! As a congenital heart surgeon, my summers are busy with elective cases, but I make sure to find time to pause and enjoy all the fun that summer offers.
If you read my Spring STS News column, you know that I enjoy telling stories to share my life’s journey and what I have learned from others along the way. The recent passing of my father was unexpected and more difficult than I imagined. As the summer weeks go by, I am finding life’s toughest paths often teach us the greatest lessons.
Love and Lessons from My Dad
On May 9th, I attended a national meeting in Ann Arbor. Afterward, I rushed to get my kids home from school and then catch a flight to Chicago for a Thoracic Surgery Foundation meeting. Amid everything, my sister called to inform me that my dad had lost vision in one eye. The ER in Kalamazoo was concerned he had experienced a small stroke and was planning for an ECHO and discharge home. My sister is a nurse and had the situation under control and encouraged me to not change my plans. After all, my dad would not want me to compromise on my work commitments. I threw some extra comfy clothes in my suitcase and mentally made plans on how I could adjust my travel if needed.
As I settled into my seat on the plane, my sister called to ask if I could get off the plane as new findings showed complete occlusion of his carotid. Thankfully the door was not closed, so I gathered my things and started to make calls to vascular surgery for a transfer. My sister transported my dad to the University of Michigan for additional tests and I met her there. His left carotid was completely thrombosed with an intact circle of Willis and good blood flow to his brain. We spent the next three hours together chatting in the ER waiting to hear a plan. These would be the last hours with our dad as we had known him our entire lives. Plans for a 23-hour observation quickly changed when the clot progressed with a large stroke leaving my dad aphasic and paralyzed on the right side for the remainder of his life. He was never able to have a meaningful conversation again.
Dad was moved to a rehab facility where he made slow progress and had hopes of transitioning home. I tried to see him every day after work, but several late nights in the OR required me to cancel my plans. During our visits, my children brought rare smiles from my dad as they chattered on about their days.
After missing several nights of visits, I had finally been able to carve away the time for my kids and me to spend the evening with my dad. On our way, the hospital called to inform me that my infant patient from the day before was arresting. I turned around and headed to the hospital, kids in tow, and put the patient on ECMO. Shortly after getting home late in the night, I received a call that my dad had been found unresponsive. I made my way in the dark of night to the rehab facility to learn that he had a massive head bleed from a hemorrhagic conversion of the stroke. I was so angry that I had lost my last chance to simply say good night to my dad. I saved that baby who is home now, and I know his family is so grateful. No matter what I did, I could not have saved my dad, but I still wish I could have said good night one more time. I spent many hours alone holding my dad’s hand waiting for the rest of my family while reflecting on his life and mine.
As cardiothoracic surgeons, we give of ourselves and our families to care for our patients. It is our privilege to be their surgeons, and we push the limits and our own physical boundaries. I suddenly spent two months as a family member trying to navigate what was happening with my dad and making tough decisions. Neurologic issues are far from the world we exist in every day. I no longer had the answers. I had to trust in his care providers who were amazing.
There is great value in experiencing what it is like to be a patient or family member. Understanding the challenges, the fear, and the trust our patients navigate makes us better physicians. Losing my dad pushed me over the edge. I realized I had been living in the red zone with no extra time or space. I could not keep up with the additional demands and emotional stress. I was drowning. I am forever thankful to my sister for getting me off that plane. I am thankful that, for the first time, I felt it was okay not to keep pushing forward but rather step back from a professional commitment. I chose to be who I needed to be for myself, my sister, and the children. To all those who have granted me immense grace in the past two months, thank you.
My dad gave everything to his family, his career, and those he mentored. A prominent mathematics professor, he worked seven days a week to provide for my sister and me, to mentor the next generation, and to transform high school math education nationally. He published numerous textbooks and received a lifetime achievement award. In his retirement years, however, he lived with many regrets about lost opportunities with his family. Although we always knew how dearly he loved us, he wished he had been more present.
As I reflect over the past two months, I wish as his daughter I had just one more piggyback ride around the backyard or one more family vacation with him. His last gift to me was understanding the importance of living a life without regret, a life with purpose and family. I am working hard to redefine balance in my life. Balance is not just juggling everything with expertise as I have been doing for decades. You cannot have balance if you are not living and present to those you love. Thank you, dad, for always guiding the way. I love and miss you.
New Nominating Process for STS Leaders
The new nominating process closed earlier this summer. We had a robust response with excellent nominations and self-nominations for volunteer leadership opportunities within our organization. Although I have not previously been a part of the nomination process, I can say that I am very proud of the transparent and inclusive process we created and the meaningful engagement of the members of the committee. I look forward to the presentation of the new slate of leaders in January 2025 as a historical moment for our organization.
Annual Meeting Update
I recently traveled to Los Angeles for a site visit for the upcoming annual meeting. The STS 2025 Annual Meeting planning committee is doing an amazing job with innovative programming and the addition of three outstanding pre-meeting symposia focused on aortic disease, lung cancer management, and our amazing advanced practice provider teams. I hope that we will have excellent attendance and that people will leave with a sense of belonging and a renewed energy with innovative ideas to provide the best care possible for the patients and families who entrust us with their care.
With the July 4th fireworks behind us, may you enjoy some lazy summer afternoons with those you love. Please find time to fully unplug and be present for yourself, family and friends. The simplest moments in life are the ones we cherish the most. May your days be filled with purpose both personally and professionally.
With gratitude for the grace and space I needed,
Jennifer Romano