Flying with an ascending aortic aneurism

I was 50 when my Type A aortic dissection happened suddenly in 2015 in San Diego while I was on business. I knew immediately something was terribly wrong. I got out of my hotel room, laid down in the turnabout so I’d be found. I was in emergency open-heart surgery and woke up from a coma a few weeks later with a changed life and a changed perspective. They repaired my ascending aorta and arch with a Dacron graft, and I’m here to tell you that survival and recovery are very real outcomes. It sure beats the alternative.

A 4.0 cm ascending aneurysm is not automatically a surgery number. For many people, the next step is careful monitoring, good blood pressure control, and lifestyle adjustments that reduce stress on the aorta. The cardiologist appointment next week is the right move, and you’re doing exactly what you should be doing right now: getting evaluated and getting a plan.

As far as exercise, the biggest issue with ascending aneurysms is sudden spikes in blood pressure. That’s why your cardiologist will almost certainly tell you to stop heavy lifting, avoid max-effort or breath-holding (Valsalva), and keep workouts in a controlled, steady zone. Spinning is often manageable when it’s not an all-out sprint class, but the “weight fitness class” piece is where people can get into trouble if it involves heavy resistance, straining, or lifting to fatigue. You can still move your body, but the goal is “smooth and steady,” not “explode and strain.”

On the surgery side, if you ever reach the point where surgery is recommended, outcomes are generally very good when surgery is planned rather than emergent. My case was the worst kind — a rupture/dissection emergency — and even then, modern surgical teams can do extraordinary work. Elective ascending aneurysm repair is a highly established operation at major centers, and people routinely return to active lives after recovery.

Here’s the most important thing I can tell you: knowing about it is power. You are not walking around blind. You have a diagnosis, you have a cardiologist appointment next week, and you have time to take the right steps. That changes everything.

Until you see the cardiologist, I would treat this as a “no straining, no breath-holding, no heavy lifting” period. Keep your activity light and controlled, avoid deep twists and any movement that makes you brace hard, and focus on staying calm and steady rather than pushing intensity.

You’re scared because this is scary. But the diagnosis is exactly what gives you the chance to manage it safely and prevent the event everyone fears. I’m living proof that even when things go catastrophically wrong, it can still be survivable — and your situation is not a dissection, it’s a measured finding with a plan coming. Peace.

(That’s me in the gray suit on the far right in San Diego outside the federal court in October 2025. I’m still here!)