Mark Montieth: Pollard’s recovery worth singing about

He’s always had a flair for drama, finding ways to stand out from the crowd.

Standing 6 feet 11 inches and playing 11 NBA seasons for five teams was a good start, but he doubled down with a smorgasbord of hairstyles—everything from bald to long to ponytails in a rainbow of colors. After basketball, he tried everything from acting to reality TV to broadcasting to real estate.

But of all the oddball things Scot Pollard has done in his 49 years, receiving a heart transplant beats all. And if that alone doesn’t set him apart from society’s mainstream, he had to go and make a big production out of it. When they pulled the breathing tube out of his mouth the day following his Feb. 16 surgery at the Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, he burst into song, tweaking the lyrics to a Tony Bennett classic: “I left my heart … in San Fran-Nashville!”

Right then, he knew the four-hour surgery had been successful. The brain fog that had haunted him for three years had lifted, and his sense of humor was restored. That was another good start, although plenty of challenges remain for his physical and mental health, not to mention his bank account.

“It’s going to be a lifelong battle,” he said.

Pollard played three of his 11 NBA seasons for the Pacers, from 2003 to 2006. He was never a “numbers guy,” the sort of player who filled up box scores, although he always rebounded well. He was a role player, usually playing off the bench and contributing to winning with nuances.

A typical performance came in the Pacers’ 13-point victory at Houston on Jan. 18, 2005. Pollard played 25-1/2 minutes off the bench. He didn’t score, and he fouled out, but he grabbed four timely rebounds, got deflections and kept Houston center Yao Ming in check.

“It’s good to have a veteran big man who can bang, who’s constantly on both boards, lays on the big man and grabs every loose ball,” Reggie Miller said afterward. “Very valuable.”

“He’s one of the most resourceful players I’ve ever seen at [center] for someone whose stats are so modest,” coach Rick Carlisle added.

Life changes

Modest numbers have taken on a different meaning for Pollard these days. For example, he’s pleased with the 1R he posted recently. That’s a measure of the degree to which he has rejected his new heart. It’s a good number, surpassed only by zero. But if at any time he gets to three, he’ll have to head straight for a hospital. At four, he has a serious problem.

All in all, Pollard is progressing well. Rebounding, you might say. He’s scheduled to be released from Vanderbilt’s care on April 16 if all continues to go well, but that’s as much a beginning as an end.

He’ll need to go back to Nashville once a month for a year for checkups, and he’ll have to take anti-rejection meds the rest of his life. Every day. A lot of them. “I think I’m at 43 right now,” he said.

He has been able to lower the dosage of the steroid prednisone, which in turn will enable him to stop taking three other drugs intended to reduce prednisone’s side effects. He can take Tylenol to combat pain, but not Advil. He can no longer eat anything raw. He can have a steak, but it has to be cooked medium well, at least. Buffets are out, not that he liked them, anyway. No sushi, which he happens to like. No grapefruit, blood oranges or pomegranate. The restrictions are nearly endless.

His immune system will be compromised because of the anti-rejection drugs, so he’ll have to limit human contact as much as possible. That means avoiding large crowds, especially for the first six months, along with wearing a mask on airplanes, wiping down what others have touched, even avoiding handshakes.

All of which is a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

“I’m living, so I’ll take it,” he said.

Pollard didn’t experience heart problems until, “against my better judgement,” he was convinced to get a flu shot in 2021. A few days later, he contracted a virus. His doctor then convinced him to get a COVID shot. He added a booster later and wound up in the hospital on an IV steroid drip for four days. His heart gradually deteriorated from there.

“I’ve told my doctors, I’m not getting any more shots,” he said. “But I’m not telling anybody else not to do it.”

Saving his life

Pollard went to Vanderbilt to await a possible transplant because more are performed there—141 last year—than anywhere else in the country. He wasn’t going to be an easy match because of his NBA-sized body and wanted to be where the odds were in his favor.

His surgeon, Dr. Ashish S. Shah, who performed 40 transplants last year, said it wasn’t necessary to find a donor who matched Pollard’s height and weight, just one with a heart strong enough to pump blood through such a large container.

“A functioning heart is better than the heart he had,” Shah said. “The first goal is to save his life. The second is to give a good quality of life. You have to have a heart that can pump enough blood to do the things he wants to do.”

Pollard’s athletic background has been a benefit in the recovery process. He can deal with any amount of pain and soreness and has no problem doing the work required in therapy.

“There was no way we were going to stop this guy,” Shah said. “He did what he was asked to do and did it without complaint.”

Pollard might never know whose heart he acquired. The standard procedure is for the recipient to write a letter to the donor’s family to offer gratitude, but there’s no guarantee of a response. Pollard has been told not to get his hopes up, and Shah said the odds are about 50-50.

When it happens, though, there’s further drama. Predictable drama. Shah said the first thing the donor’s family members do when meeting the recipient, without fail, is to put an ear to the still-beating heart. Pollard has drafted a letter to his donor’s family but will wait another month or so to refine it and let the donor family grieve before he sends it. He’ll understand if he never hears back.

“There’s days I’m so grateful that I’m alive, and some days I feel so guilty,” he said. “I don’t believe it was an older man’s heart; it was somebody my age or younger. The donor family suffered a tragedy. Somebody went too early.”

What Pollard can do in the meantime is advocate for donor registration. Signing up for it when renewing your driver’s license might not be enough. To be certain they are on the list, willing donors should sign up at indianadonornetwork.org.

“Some friends thought they were [donors] but weren’t,” Pollard said.

“You’re truly giving a gift to many people. There’s so many people you can help by being a donor.”

Financial strain

As one would imagine, heart transplants don’t come cheap. They run more than $1 million, in fact. Pollard, 49, has an excellent insurance plan as a retired NBA player, but it won’t come close to covering all his expenses, which will be ongoing. He already has cashed in the pension he earned from his 11 seasons to get at the lump-sum portion of it, but that won’t come close to covering the bill.

His career earnings are reported to be slightly more than $38 million, but when agents’ fees, taxes, union dues and such are subtracted, it’s far less. Add a divorce, which sliced past savings and future pension payments in half, and his financial status isn’t as strong as one would assume.

Finding a job that pays well enough to withstand the landslide of bills will be a major challenge. He was an education major at the University of Kansas, but teaching isn’t a practical option at this point. He most recently worked as a real estate agent out of the Carmel area, as does his wife, Dawn, but climbing stairs and having constant contact with clients and fellow agents would threaten his health.

“I don’t feel I’ll ever be able to go back to work,” he said.

Pollard has known economic distress before. His father, Pearl, a standout center at the University of Utah for three years ending in the 1958-1959 season, died of a heart attack at 54 in 1991. He had owned a paving company that experienced slumps, occasionally creating hardship for his wife and six children. Scot, the youngest, recalls receiving a box of cereal for Christmas one year. After his father passed, his mother needed welfare assistance on occasion.

A friend of the Pollards, Jodi Bacon, formed a GoFundMe account in Scot’s name without his knowledge. As of Tuesday, $35,170 of the $49,000 goal had been raised. He is not comfortable with receiving charity but is grateful for it.

“This is a financial strain for us,” he said. “We’re struggling right now. I don’t expect people to have sympathy for me, but what I’m going through is very real. I don’t know how most people get through it [financially].”

Pollard is getting through it with help from Dawn, who didn’t sign up for caring for a heart transplant patient when they married 10 years ago but has stayed by his side throughout the process of illness, surgery and recovery. Pollard has read stories of patients whose spouses bailed, so he doesn’t take it for granted.

“She’s plowing through it,” he said. “She’s a lot tougher than I am. There’s never a doubt that we’re staying together. We’re so lucky we have unconditional love.”

That sort of thing requires a beating heart. And Pollard would be the first to tell you, that’s something worth singing about.•

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Montieth, an Indianapolis native, is a longtime newspaper reporter and freelance writer. He is the author of three books: “Passion Play: Coach Gene Keady and the Purdue Boilermakers,” “Reborn: The Pacers and the Return of Pro Basketball to Indianapolis,” and “Extra Innings: My Life in Baseball,” with former Indianapolis Indians President Max Schumacher.