General Nooz and a Bit of a Rant

A BIT OF CATCHING UP

On Thursday we braved a late start (my bad) and horrendous traffic (on 580 through Oakland no less) to arrive late for the heart transplant clinic. We were able to visit with some other recipients and generally got updated on everyones progress. We went into the exam room, where as noted earlier we met Bob New Heart, aka The Other Bob. I am doing well in the heart dept. with just a couple of med changes and one new added recurring test. Then it was off to kidney transplant clinic for another assessment. Again everything is very good, but they too added a new lab test. It was here I asked the question that has set off the rant which I will divulge a bit later in this edition. We enjoyed a nice lunch at Park Chow, one of our perennial favorites in the neighborhood. Of course it was now rush hour with all the built-in delays and my initial tardiness. So we crawled home thankful to arrive after a full-on medical day.

As previewed earlier, Friday had us at an appointment with my new cardiologist, my first-ever doc right here in Beautiful Downtown Liverville. He was recommended as a good guy who was interested in following and treating post-transplant patients as we phase out of frequent UCSF care. This is 180 degrees away from my long-time former Muir cardio who blew me off big time when I started to get into the heart transplant process.

Another fine session at cardiac rehab followed, where the nurses there informed me they had checked out the Transplant Trib, and seemed mildly amused. I guess they are confused after four years of Sullen Bob walking glumly on their treadmill. I dunno.

While I labored at rehab Cherie likewise labored over the incredible mess my prescriptions have become. It seems that after the initial fill at CarePlus/CVS in SF that the high-end, high-dollar (designer) drugs can only be refilled at several "specialty" mail-order pharmacies designated by Medicare. The drugs in question are for the most part the ones I inject, but several pills are included. And each comes with a truly staggering co-pay. Neither of us truly "got" this since I guess I was on some drug or other and Cherie was crying during the pharmacy session since she was stressed with moving into 2000 Post. So, yes, I waited too long to call in some much-needed refills that were rejected by the insurer at CVS. We were directed to call different 800, 866, 877 etc. numbers to try and unravel the mysteries. At least one of the meds was a "run out over the weekend" deal that even if approved as an exception CarePlus in The City did not currently have any. We were lucky, incredibly, to learn our local CVS where we have had our prescriptions for years had it in stock. They got the necessary permission to fill it so we will be merrily getting that today. Transplant recipients beware of hidden traps like this.

A busy day ended with a voyage to The Shark Tank (sorry about your hockey game, Sandy and Chris) to take in The Eagles. As I have said before, these guys are one of my four top groups ever (Beatles, Stones, Elton and Eagles) and the only one of the four (except unfortunately the Fab Four) who I have not seen. Until Friday. I had always heard tickets were quite expensive and in high demand, so I became discouraged (remember this was Mopey Bob/Irv here) about ever affording to see them. Well I still can't afford it but the Sparky New Bob/Irv decided to go for it at the last moment anyway. After dusting off my old eBay skills (I am terrified by horrible stories of Craigslist transactions) I managed to secure two tickets at less than face value, no schlocky Ticketmaster rip-off fees and even delivered next-day air on Thursday.

After a delightful tailgate dinner in the parking lot we entered and took our floor level seats. Good but a bit far back. No worries, with the giant screens we did not miss any of what was a most fantastic event. Head guy Glenn Frey introduced it as "The Eagles Assisted Living Tour" which was largely quite accurate. I will not belabor your, Dear Readers, with one of my (yawn) infamous reviews: I think I trashed that idea pretty comprehensibly with my restaurant review effort. But suffice it to say it was fantastic at the least. I heard all I would have hoped for, and more. We stood up a lot, danced around and sang at the top of our poor old lungs. I thought due to my sinister face mask nobody could hear my "singing" but Cherie hoped I did not bother our neighbors as she could hear me quite clearly. We got home at some late hour, tired but super jazzed with our evening.

OK ON TO THE RANT NOW

My greatest fear before the concert was not, as in the past, my physical and emotional ability to attend such an event, but rather would my, uh, bladder allow me some peace and an opportunity to enjoy the whole show.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING RANT CONTAINS ITEMS THAT YOU MIGHT FIND AN EXAMPLE OF TMI. CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 17 SHOULD VIEW THIS RANT UNDER STRICT PARENTAL SUPERVISION. THE TRANSPLANT TRIBUNE IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR NIGHTMARES, NAUSEA, SHORTNESS OF PANTS OR ANY OTHER PHYSICAL OR MENTAL SIDE-EFFECTS EXPERIENCED AFTER READING THIS SECTION.

OK I hope I satisfied our fussy legal staff. Now on to the rant we have all been waiting for.

While in the hospital enjoying my new kidney, I could not help but notice the frequency of results I was experiencing. After all I had endured three years of dialysis where the only miniscule benefit is you can go months (not really, but days) without this need. So you can avoid a lot of dodgy situations (gas stations, fast-food joints, that bush over there by the side of the road) that I hear the ladies regularly suffer. Except perhaps that bush over there. At least my Sweet Wife tells me this.

On my departure form UCSF I was put on Flomax by the kidney folks, they said to aid in "emptying". But my mind immediately took me to the hundreds of Flomax commercials I have seen. You may have seen these as well. They typically air during macho "guy" programming like various sporting events, cop shows, America's Most Wanted, and Oprah. They start out showing four old guys at some sort of ball game. Three of them are cheering and yelling while throwing down large quantities of some sort of liquids (beer would me the most appropriate but I don't think you can show people actually consuming alcohol on TV). The poor fourth guy is nervously looking around, squirming in his seat and then suddenly stands up and stumbles over a bunch of strangers to get out. He (as you might guess) heads right to the men's room, exiting obviously but temporarily relieved and smoothing his (very little) hair back. Then there is a brief animated description of what it looks like inside your body as Flomax goes to work shrinking your prostate and allowing your bladder to enjoy some much-needed relief and relaxation. On we go to a shot of four different old guys riding down a beautiful mountain road far from the nearest rest room in a mid-Sixties Mustang convertible. Their silver hair (those who have any) is streaming in the breeze as they all enjoy what appears to be plastic bottles of water or Gatoraid or something. No worries in the world.

So here I am thinking I have the right drug to help me with my little, er, problem. But I am decidedly not getting my hoped for outcomes (outcomes...get it?). This was emphasized by our trip to Westlake Village last weekend, where I became familiar with all the (still open) rest areas and at least 57% of the McDonald's between home and the Greater LA Area. I know I ragged about fast food joints but actually Mickey D's are fairly well-maintained. And they usually have a side door so you can enter and exit without worrying about some scowling employee glaring at you wondering why you're using the facilities without buying a Big Mac.

I questioned the kidney docs on Thursday about this. They said " Oh no, that is to assist emptying. Your bladder has shrunk up to the size of a pea (pea/pee. Get it?) due to years of dialysis. Over time it will stretch back out." Seems the dialysis treatments remove all the fluid from your bod so the bladder never fills and stretches out and therefore shrinks from under-usage. Now we know the ugly truth behind those overly-cheerful Flomax ads.

So I was somewhat apprehensive about The Eagles concert. Needn't have worried. I had an aisle seat within sight of the nearest conveniences. I didn't even get to Red Alert status and was able to join the expected line during intermission in a relaxed, panic-free state. So I did not miss a single note and thoroughly enjoyed all of it. What a relief (relief..get it?) it turned out to be.

ENOUGH ALREADY

Indeed, enough is enough. I will close by relating to you my favorite line in my favorite Eagles tune, that being Hotel California. The policy at this hotel is "You can check out anytime you want, but you can never leave" just like the situation we experienced at great length up on 10 LONG. There's a lesson to be learned there for everyone, don't ya think?

Bob/Irv