When Can I Fly?

When Can I Fly?
The other day, I looked at my calendar and thought, “It’s been a while since I went anywhere that didn’t involve a doctor, a waiting room, or someone taking my blood pressure.” So naturally, I asked the transplant doc, “Hey, when can I fly?” I figured I’d either get a thumbs-up or a definite no.
What I got instead was a vague shrug and a gentle, “Well... you can, but only if you’re flying somewhere near a heart transplant hospital—just in case.”
That’s when I realized I’m not just packing underwear and a toothbrush anymore. Now I’ve got to include a mental checklist: Is there a heart team nearby? Do they know what to do if my ticker throws a tantrum mid-vacation?
So, I did a little homework.
Turns out there are over 110 transplant hospitals in the U.S. that perform heart transplants. That gives me decent odds if I stick to major cities—and skip any plans for a cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Take Vanderbilt in Nashville, for example. They performed more heart transplants than any other U.S. center last year—174, to be exact. That’s not just impressive, that’s full-on superhero stuff. And lucky me, I’ve got relatives in Nashville. So if I want to get away, I can fly into Music City, stay with family, and know that if anything goes sideways, the best heart team in the world is just down the road. Win-win.
Another good one is Piedmont Atlanta Hospital, which handled about 5.7% of all U.S. heart transplants. And Stanford Hospital in California isn’t far behind. So I can plan a trip, as long as my destination has both decent barbecue and a backup heart surgeon.
Of course, my doctor added a couple more pearls of wisdom—just to keep things interesting. “Make sure you wear a mask on the plane,” he said. “And don’t sit near anyone coughing, sneezing, or looking like they’ve got the plague.” I nodded, then mentally made a note to pack a dozen masks and start brushing up on my skills at pretending to be asleep so no one sits next to me.
My Heart Journey: Waiting on a Heart