I'm Not Dead... Yet! (61 page)

“I’ve always been that way, but now I visualize more after the operation, thinking about what I did and how it turned out, and what I didn’t do perfectly, and why didn’t I see that, and that… I think that is more important.”

“I had one patient who was having her fifth re-do, and it was very complicated. I went over and over everything I had to do, counting the minutes, again and again, and it took me weeks before I could see it clearly in my mind and could do her the justice she deserved. It was only after talking to her a couple of times that I felt truly committed to her. If we don’t do the operation, there is… nothing for her. And I could not accept
not trying
. I wanted to help her; give her the best life possible.”

“It’s… getting over the fear of killing people… truly loving people, but getting over that fear in order to save them. I operated on her after thinking and thinking about each step of the procedure, and the operation was a success…”

He became very quiet. For a moment I thought he was going to get emotional but then he pulled himself together, and honestly, after hearing that story, I knew that somehow I had found my way to the right man to operate on my heart. The man who gave me more time with Karla; with my son and daughter; with my friends and family. I somehow found the right man.

It’s difficult to comprehend
a place like The Cleveland Clinic, where even though the world is at war, there is a zip code in Cleveland where everyone is trying to help one another. Everyone shows a simple goodness to one another. Everyone is genuinely compassionate. As my daughter said when she was little, and we always mimic her in her small voice, ‘Where is this place?’ Well… it’s in Cleveland. And dammit, it should be in every city in our civilized United States of America.

Someone needs to sit down with Dr. Delos Cosgrove, the President and Chief Executive Officer of The Cleveland Clinic and hear how he runs his hospital; and what his values are; and what he holds near and dear to his heart—especially since he is an accomplished heart surgeon as well as a brilliant administrator. He is a man who believes that everyone, himself included, should be on a one-year contract. He is a man who believes his doctors should be salaried and not rewarded by the quantity of patients each doctor sees, but by the quality of medicine each doctor gives to his and her patients. He is a man of innovation; he invented the system in which the blood that is lost by a patient during open-heart surgery is re-used rather than wasted. He supports a system where everyone discusses successes and failures. He believes that the patient and the family come first. I am so fortunate that I was steered in the direction of this place; this man; and the doctors, surgeons, nurses and staff at this remarkable hospital—and this comes from someone who has seen too many hospitals.

My hope is that one day soon, Mustapha will get his office so that he can feel part of the same system I felt so close to; a system driven by humanity, not dollars; a system structured on decency, integrity, honesty and compassion.

It’s a hope that the ways of The Cleveland Clinic will someday be the template for our healthcare system in America.

The Cleveland Clinic Model of Care

I finished the first draft of this manuscript
in less than three months from the day they sawed me open.

It isn’t easy to get up every morning and hurt; every day it seems like I start from scratch. But it sure beats
not
getting up every morning. And I refuse to complain—but every once in a while when the ticking from that damn mechanical valve is louder than the percussion in my music it pisses me off. But, I’m getting the chance to compose music. So no complaining.

Coumadin, exercise, the right diet, peace-of-mind, creativity, music, friends, family, love—and then there is Karla. It all begins again—the cycle to stay healthy and enjoy life. What a gift I was given.

I went back to work again as an actor for the first time in years, on my good friends’ Peter and Leslie Tolan’s NBC pilot,
Brave New World,
in 2011.

Even though the network didn’t pick it up, I was glad to be in front of (instead of behind) the camera , acting in a comedy with talented kids and old friends, including Ed Begley Jr., whose dad watched out for me

so long ago on Broadway in
Zelda
.

Karla and I wanted to spend time with our children, now adults, who are finding their way in the world. We believe when it comes to our children, all creative thoughts should be free-flowing and respected. We never put down or scoffed at an idea our kids had—we nurture their dreams with our love. It works (for us).

Zephyr just finished writing his first feature—a terrific screenplay that he’s working to get off the ground. Zephyr is a remarkable young man. He has the skills to be a powerful storyteller, but more importantly, he is compassionate, tender and understanding of others.

Both of our children are successful no matter what they choose to do. They
give
to the world, they don’t ‘take, take, take.’ (And both of our children make music.)

After devoting eight years to silence and the study of higher states of consciousness, Lyric, our peace warrior, came home and asked if we’d like to make an album with her that rocked out. We were thrilled!

Making
Lyric’s Love Light Revolution
, with her was a blast for our entire family. Lyric sang like a champ, I composed the music and engineered (thanks to years of mentoring, tutelage and friendship from my buddy Ross Wissbaum), and Karla and I produced—resulting in an album that nurtured Lyric’s exquisite and astute poetry. It’s what Billie Best coined as an ‘eco-psychedelic transcendental hip-pop celebration’—and you can hear the entire album on iTunes!

I was invited to speak
at The Cleveland Clinic’s
2nd Annual Patient Experience: Empathy+Innovation Summit.
On May 23, 2011—almost a year to the day of my fourth open heart surgery—I gave the keynote address before an audience of 700 healthcare professionals from across the country meeting to exchange ideas on improving the patient experience.