A Mostly Medical Week

After a week of inactivity here at Transplant Trib Northern Hemisphere HQ, the deafening outcries (not) for more have not gone unnoticed by your Editor/Publisher and all the Regular Folks in the noozroom. So despite my better judgement I have taken it upon myself as President/CEO to focus intently on bringing you, the Readers, as Sgt. Joe Friday used to say, "just the facts, ma'am"

AN INTENSE COUPLA DAYS ON OL' PARNASSUS

On Wednesday I was scheduled for my now-monthly heart biopsy to again determine if and how much rejection I might have. Although we were told to arrive at the Cath Lab by 8:00 am, our coordinator prophetically warned us the previous evening that I could be delayed by others who were already in rejection. Having been a client of the Cath Lab many times over these last five or six years, I am well aware of what can and inevitably does happen to get the proposed scheduling totally sideways. That's just the way it has to be, although it would be a lot more endurable were it not for that totally evil concept we know as NPO.

I was summoned into the prep room quickly but there the process came to a standstill. After a hungry few hours I walked into the procedure room and was given a small dose of flak juice. While I fell in and out of restless sleep the deed was quickly done. After the obligatory X-ray, off we went into some of the worst traffic we have had on these voyages. Not to unnecessarily complain but it was a heckuva way to spend a wedding anniversary. Yes, Cinco de Mayo was our 37th anniversary; I am a guy who knows how to show his wife a swell time on such an occasion eh? Luckily we had celebrated the day early by seeing The Eagles, enjoying a great Mexican dinner Sunday at La Casa Frates, and salvaging a bit of Wednesday with a nice dinner at Melo's

The task on Thursday was to once again battle upturned meat cleavers and surly truck drivers and get from Liverstein to SF for another cytogam injection. And this time Cheryl thankfully agreed to allow me to go it alone so she could spend some much-needed time on Travel.

Here is a brief description of this treatment from WebMD:

This medication is used to prevent a certain serious viral infection (cytomegalovirus-CMV) in persons having an organ transplant (kidney, heart, liver, lung, pancreas). During the transplant process, the body's defense system (immune system) is weakened to prevent the body from attacking (rejecting) the new organ. A weakened immune system increases the risk of a serious, possibly fatal infection with CMV. This medication is made from healthy human blood that has a high level of certain defensive substances (antibodies) that help fight CMV.

This procedure takes about three hours and is administered by IV. My time was to be 11:00 am, but I was not taken in for treatment until nearly 1:00 pm. No biggie, but it would therefore inject me onto the freeway at exactly the wrong time once again. Everything was routine and it actually ended a bit early as I was given a lesser dose than before. Not less enough to avoid more cleavers and surliness on the way home, however.

After a few more hassles with some staggeringly expensive prescriptions, we were contacted later Thursday with some other Good Nooz/Bad Nooz. Good Nooz: rejection was a great big GOOSE EGG! We are talkin' zero, nada, nothin', no how. So that keeps me at 100% Zero Rejection ever on these wonderful organs. On the other hand my pulmonary pressures are again too high causing an increase on one of my most $$$ drugs as well as a V/Q Scan which is:

A pulmonary ventilation/perfusion scan is a pair of nuclear scan tests that use inhaled and injected material to measure breathing (ventilation) and circulation (perfusion) in all areas of the lungs.

I am also scheduled for an AlloMap, which is a simpler, cheaper and non-invasive test for organ rejection.

The AlloMap Test is a noninvasive, multi-gene molecular diagnostics blood test used to aid in the identification of heart transplant recipients with stable allograft function who have a low probability of moderate/severe acute cellular rejection at the time of testing, in conjunction with standard clinical assessment.

OK, what is this, the Transplant Trib School of Medicine or something? Forgive me, Class. But I had naively assumed a while after the operation things might return to more regularity, but sadly it has not. UCSF appears to have become a part of me forever.

IN CONCLUSION, A SMALL SERVING OF OTHER STUFF

We will be joined by Andrew tomorrow for his Tribute to Mama opportunity. In the evening we will enjoy Dinner with the Gang. Our plan is to observe Mother's Day, first on Tuesday with a little journey I am planning that I cannot divulge at this moment. Then on Wednesday there is an outing being planned by Leslie to include her husband and in-laws, the Chaws.

One side benefit to transplantation is that you have to wear a face mask under certain circumstances. Why is this a benefit, you may ask? It is particularly important to protect oneself around children. It is a well-known fact that rug rats are are amongst the most frequently ill humans, sporting a variety of sneezes, coughs, infections, germs and general snorkiness. So with my immunosuppressed state I must be careful in places frequented by this lovable but potentially harmful populace. Therefore, when I go into any possibly-crowded place, especially if kids are present, I wear a mask.

So why is this a good thing? Because in grocery stores, restaurants, frozen yogie places, fast food joints (I never go there), Walmart ( I never go there, either), and daycare centers (ditto), I appear strange to kids. And no matter how well they have been raised they cannot help but stare at me, eyes wide open, noses running and jaws dropped. Of course I add to the look by wearing my (free) UCSF Heart and Lung Transplant hat, and my old-guy (free also) huge optometrist-office issue sunglasses (see photo above). I have yet to have a tot burst out in tears or anything, but it is a major hoot for me and, I hope, Cheryl too.

Bob/Irv