Today is February 13th, which means that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. While most people will spend tomorrow with someone they love and celebrating their affair of the heart – myself and my heart will be celebrating this day of love a little differently. Instead of flowers and candy, it will be anesthesia and IVs when I go under the knife at Methodist Hospital for an Electrophysiology Study.

Beside the amusing fact that only I would have a heart operation on Valentine’s Day – to say that I am nervous is an understatement. Not only am I having an operation that was attempted on me once before but not completed because it cost me two of my nine lives, but now I have the knowledge of the actual fatality rate of the operation – which is one in 5,000. (For comparison, the fatality rate from an Appendicitis is 4%.) So you can see why I have been a wreck today.

The truth is that I want to have this operation because I want to know why my heart is physically broken – because its no secret why its emotionally broken. But I am tired of medicines just reducing the condition – I want the condition to cease. Take someone who has had migraines for instance. Taking medication to ease the pain from migraines is one thing – but wouldn’t it be great to stop them completely? That is my goal. To have this operation in the hopes that the reason for my broken heart will be found – and hopefully cured.

But as hopeful as I am about the operation being successful is as terrified as I am about the operation being fatal. No matter what people say about how advanced medicine is, despite all of the much appreciated prayers and well wishes I have received – and no matter how many times Dr. Kassotis has performed this operation – there is still a possibility that the operation could not go well and that I might not wake up after I fall asleep. So tomorrow when I am wheeled into the operating room and the mask is placed over my face and I begin to inhale the anesthesia – there is a possibility that I could be taking my final breath.

So even though I completely trust my doctors and have tremendous faith in God that “my time” has not yet arrived – the fear factor is still there.

So here I am. Less then twenty-four hours away from my operation. If all goes well and my broken heart is cured – Hallelujah. If not – This life has been one hell of a ride – and it was fun.