When It Comes to Matters of the Heart, Distance Is Beside the Point

Pete Bolline lives with heartfelt gratitude in a log cabin in the picturesque mountains of eastern Tennessee, about 75 miles north of Asheville, North Carolina. His is the perfect story to commemorate this year’s 62nd anniversary of American Heart Month. Each February, American Heart Month is a poignant reminder that heart disease remains the leading cause of death in the United States, and continued research and educational efforts to advance cardiovascular treatments and preventive care are vitally important.

In 1998, when Pete learned he needed open heart surgery, he was living in western Michigan — some 300 miles from Cleveland. Still, he believed Cleveland Clinic to be the clear choice for his procedure.

“There are excellent medical facilities in Grand Rapids,” Pete recalled thinking. “But then I decided, ‘Why not go to the number one heart center in the world?’” His understanding at the time was that “Local hospitals may have been performing a handful of valve replacements each month, whereas Cleveland Clinic was probably doing a dozen a day.”

Pete admits he had been aware of his aortic stenosis since 1994, but he let his annual echocardiogram appointments get away from him. In 1998, he experienced “some real issues … heart pain and dizziness and I had to get a valve replaced urgently.”

He recalled the “incredibly disciplined procedure” of preadmission testing and meeting each member of his Cleveland Clinic care team. “The last person you meet is the surgeon. It was like having an audience with the pope.”

Nicholas G. Smedira, MD, MBA, replaced the heart valve, but also strongly advised that a coronary artery bypass be performed during the procedure — a bypass Pete later came to believe saved his life. Following his heart valve surgery, Pete remained symptom-free for 14 years.

“Then out of nowhere,” Pete said, “I had a heart attack.” Fortunately, a friend was able to drive him to a nearby trauma center in Belleair, Florida, where Pete was living at the time. “They discovered I had two aneurysms,” Pete recalled, “one abdominal and one thoracic.”

While being treated, Pete was told that if the bypass had not been done during the first surgery, he would have had significantly more heart damage. “But I came through with flying colors,” he beamed.

The abdominal aneurysm was repaired locally, but the thoracic aneurysm was far more complicated.

At his cardiologist’s urging, Pete sought a second opinion from Cleveland Clinic and ultimately decided to make the 1,100-mile trip for a second valve replacement and thoracic aneurysm repair. “I was thrilled Dr. (Eric) Roselli agreed to review my case and ultimately take me on as a patient,” Pete said. Getting the best possible treatment for his heart was well worth the inconvenience.

In appreciation, Pete made a substantial gift to support the work of Drs. Smedira and Roselli and the entire team of thoracic nurses and caregivers. He has also named Cleveland Clinic in his estate plan, becoming a Cornerstone Society member.

Pete delights in sharing his many positive experiences with his care team at what is known today as the Sydell and Arnold Miller Family Heart, Vascular & Thoracic Institute at Cleveland Clinic.

For example, prior to his second surgery, Pete was scheduled for an echocardiogram. “When the technician looked at my chart on her computer, she said, ‘Oh my goodness, I did you 21 years ago.’ That kind of longevity speaks volumes.”

Pete also recalls recovering in the hospital on Christmas Eve when he became very cold and scared. A nurse, who began working at Cleveland Clinic right out of high school, probably about 40 years earlier, was exceptionally kind.

“Rosie was her name … she came in to see how I was doing and said, ‘Honey, you just had a blood infusion. Where do you think we keep the blood? It’s in a refrigerator. That’s why you’re cold.’” She quickly provided a warm blanket. When Pete questioned why she was working on the holiday, given her tenure, Rosie laughed and said, “Everybody works Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve.” Pete felt “immensely better after that chat with Rosie.”

Another time when Pete was extremely uncomfortable, he snapped at a nurse, wanting her to administer pain medication earlier than scheduled. Just before he was discharged, the nurse surprised him with a gift – a small, white, ceramic angel designed to hold a taper candle, “as if to say, no hard feelings,” Pete mused. “I just thought the gesture was the sweetest thing. I put that candle holder out every year at Christmastime. Cleveland Clinic is just a marvelous place.”