Everything From A to ZZ...Chapter Three

ONCE MORE, A LAME EXCUSE

Please accept my humble apologies for the long time since my last post. Or perhaps you are thanking your good fortune that I have not assaulted your tender sensibilities with this peculiar collection of unneeded information we all know as the Transplant Tribune. So for both opposing camps, here it goes anyway.

Once again due to the numerous and interesting (I hope) adventures we have had recently, I plan to serialize this tale (see "A Day in the Life"). The big difference from last time is that I will attempt to start at the end and end at the start. And how would a dope who literally can't walk and chew gum at the same time pull this off? Hell, I certainly don't know, but the next time I see him I'll ask.

So thanks Quentin Tarantino for the idea....

THE LAST COUPLA DAYS

Today was a make-it-up-as-you-go type of deal. I had made last-minute appointments with my ophthalmologist and podiatrist to address some recent eye and foot problems. I also had made a lunch date with one of my Formula One buddies, Mike M. , who is now the CFO for John Muir Health. Mike was my roomie at the USGP at Indy in 2000, and is one of the few people beside Cheryl who has experienced first-hand a truly intense R.J. Moss "screamer". If you are interested in what that is, send a self-addressed stamped envelope along with a large contribution to the John Muir Building Fund to Mike M. , Somewhere on Treat Blvd, Walnut Creek, Florida 60798. Just yanking you, send the dough to ME.

Oh, yeah, about today. I am not able to drive until Monday (reason to follow) so Poor Cheryl had to schlep my sorry ass all over the place for these commitments. Despite my urging, she chose not to dine with Mike and I at Back Forty. I arrived first, and was very pleased to see Mike enter along with Ken M. , another JMH executive with whom I had the pleasure to work for most of my spectacular (NOT!) John Muir career.

All the day in between chauffeur stints Cheryl was busy on the Mac and iPhone solving cruise problems. The doctor appointments were completed, and we headed home in the usual Friday commute mess. After a day of action and intrigue, I prepared an updated version of our Margarita-marinated Shrimp Tacos, as well as a barrage of drinkable margaritas for my wonderful wife and wheel-woman.

OK, SO WHAT ABOUT THURSDAY?

I was just getting to that. We began rather early, 4:00 am to be precise, after a late one Wednesday (details ahead, remember this is going backwards in time) and arrived at UCSF Admitting at the specified time of 7:00 am. This was in preparation for the first scheduled non-emergency cardiac cath of my new heart. For the first time in living memory, I was ushered into the holding room immediately. To my amazement, I was the one, single, solitary patient in the place. Usually the beds are full, and I am either way down the list behind earlier arrivals or my procedure is delayed for more urgent patients. They had only two other brief cases, so I was the only victim most of the day. Incredible.

This time I was number one for takeoff, and I went into the procedure room about 9:00 am. I was really very happy to see Dr. Y.Y., as he is known (nobody can spell his last name), who has always been an excellent and personally-involved physician who has tended me on many of my visits to UCSF. He came into my room one time during a really low period for me, and we just talked for quite a while. He was on his way home after his usual long and challenging day, and I won't soon forget that. He was also in the room the night I went Code Blue after he had cath'ed me, when I stupidly turned my insulin pump off for way too long a period. They now have a new protocol about that, inspired by Yours Truly..."do NOT turn off insulin pumps for a cardiac cath!"

So the good nooz was I was done about 10:00 am, one of the earliest ever. Cherie and I imagined beating a hasty retreat across the bridge and home before the awful 580 traffic started. Fat chance. I had neglected to recall the long period of flat-on-your-back bed rest that follows this procedure, due to the gaping hole in the left groin (TMI) that results from insertion of the catheter. In this instance, my blood thinners required that I lie flat for three hours before the catheter and sheath were removed. Ah, but wait, there's more! THEN I had a measly SIX more hours to chill while the gaping hole closed enough to allow me to stand up and leave.

The time passed surprisingly quickly because I was able to shoot the proverbial shit with the staff. I have been a repeat customer in this unit for quite a few years now, and the folks there pretty much all know me, and vice-versa. This time there was plenty of time to talk. Mary, one of the outstanding nurses, told me about the shout that went up when they heard I had gotten the transplant. After seeing me so many times, they were pretty stoked to get the nooz. When Cherie came in to sit with me, she and Mary talked travel. Mary has been just about everywhere, and is very focused on learning about the people and history of every country she visits. Very interesting and knowledgeable person, to be sure, and it was great to have the time to learn something about her. I will only need this test yearly, and the biopsies they do for me may be replaced by the non-invasive Allomap procedure. So I will strangely miss them. Pretty strange, eh?

The cath lab closes at like 5:00 pm or so, resulting in a transfer to LSU (Limited Stay Unit) for the duration of my sentence. I was in LSU for one night three years ago and I HATED it. Anyway, it was not nearly as bad this time. And about 8:30 I was thankfully discharged. My parting instructions include no driving, no baths or hot tubs, no strenuous exercise, no lifting, no nose-picking, and no race-watching until Monday. Just kidding about the race-watching.

Oh, I forgot to tell you Dr. Y.Y. was delighted with my heart. I was shown a video of it beating along, with nice, wide-open and clean vessels. What a change from my old guy, who served me as well as possible for many years before it just got to be too much. Thanks and RIP, buddy.

SO, NEXT TIME....

Please stay tuned for the next ass-backward chapter of Forward, into the Past right here at your sci-fi headquarters, Robert J's Transplant Tribune. What kept us out late the night before my cath lab day....and how about that recent birthday....you'll soon find out!

Bob/Irv