"I Can See for Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and..."

YES, I REALLY CAN

It is a bee-you-tea-full day here in The City, as viewed from the ninth floor, Long Hospital, UCSF Med Center. We once again left home Monday morning at about "o- dark-fifteen" or so, placing us directly in a serious Bay Bridge jam. We were essentially on time here, and for a change the Kidney Krew was in a huge flap to get me in and out fast. After the required four hours of flat bed rest in the Limited Stay Unit, the word from pathology was minimal rejection due to tubulitis. I Googled tubulitis and got 1.75 million matches, all of which were in Medicalese and therefore totally intelligible.

This morning, the largest doctor entourage I have ever seen gathered in the hall. Now I know how Custer felt. Drs. Tomlanovich, Stack, Chandra and other hangers-on entered, filling my room. Dr. T. told me it is a mild case of interstitial rejection, affecting the membranes of the actual little dudes in the kidney that filter the blood. It makes them swell, hence "tubulitis". This is opposed to vascular rejection which affects the blood vessels and is worse. The level of rejection is basically level one, not terrible but they would rather have "0" of course. They are considering a med change and will get with the heart tx docs to get to an answer. Pretty confident I will be gone tomorrow. I asked him since I am hanging here more than two days basically for three 20-minute treatments, could this be a home health deal, and he said yes it could. They definitely wanted the biopsy and figgered to just keep me and stick the stuff in while I am here. Whatever.

Well, alright then. my Tubulitis and You 101 lecture is now over, and you are dismissed. Surprise quiz tomorrow (how izzat a surprise?).

MY ICC BUDDY'S PROGRESS

I went up to 10 Long to say hi and visit David E. in ICC. He is the gentleman I have been seeing to help keep him focused and enthused about his proposed heart/kidney transplant. It is now public that the esteemed surgeon Dr. Hoopes (who does all hearts including Yours Truly) is leaving for U of Kentucky. Pretty soon too. And when he goes, so goes heart transplants at UCSF until a suitable replacement is recruited. This will probably not be like when 15,000 people apply for three part time positions at Target. My fear was that David would be left out, and he is better now but still in great need.

He looked great today, sitting up in a chair with no lines or oxygen going to him. He just casually mentioned he was having "the operation" today. My jaw dropped 16 feet, although I am only 5'9" tall. Ouch! But seriously, I had to ask incredulously "you're getting a heart and kidney TODAY?" I was pretty happy and relieved about his organ offer.

I went back up to 10 ICC after dinner, and asked at the desk if he was gone yet. To my dismay, the nurse sadly said "No". I dragged myself to his room, and met his daughter who was to be his main caregiver. He told me it was happening until his labs were not acceptable. Incredibly, he was amazingly OK with it, but he did admit to major disappointment when he got the refusal. Dr. M. asked me last week not to mention Dr. Hoopes' departure, so I am not sure whether David knows about that. It would then be necessary for him to get another offer and be healthy enough for the surgery by this Sunday, since as of November 1st., Dr. Hoopes is history. I encouraged both of them, naturally, but I am damned worried about what will happen next month.

A SHORT BUT SWEET VACAY TO THE MOUNTAIN

We did get away last Wednesday after labs were drawn locally. Our trusty S2000 was packed to the gunwales (what is a gunwale, and do I really have them?) with important stuff, enough to sustain a very small army for a pretty short time. We missed the Bro' for lunch in Lodi and headed for Apple Hill. After the required apple donut and a bag of Fujis, we pointed East and North for North Shore, with the top down and the heater on. Excellent accommodations at the Red Wolf, which included an early-evening S'more extravaganza, luckily without the threatened singing of campfire songs.

Dining experiences ranged from dismal to slightly above mediocre, but the worst is worthy of a heartfelt (HEARTfelt...get it?) warning to all. DINING AT JACKSON RANCHERIA CASINO CAN BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HEALTH! I am not only talking about the ciggie smoke in the (barn-like) casino. No no. With visions of Vegas-level opportunities for eating, we avoided the buffet and headed for the "Food Court". Here we found a dark, dismal hallway with maybe three fast-food type establishments and one cart selling Nathan's hot dogs. These austere stainless steel-decorated counter service establishments were staffed by inattentive employees who all either hated life or had very sore feet. After consuming our lunches, we realized the motivation. These casinos don't have shows, Bobby Flay restaurants, fancy fountains, or in fact anything but gambling! They obviously are intent on getting your face quickly fed and returning you directly to the slots. And mere moments down the road was Jackson itself with several better-looking dining emporiums. We learned a lesson there, boys and girls.

We continued down the hill as rain drops commenced. We had a nice visit with Gary in Lodi at Buy-4-Less, where everyone should go to get fantastic grocery values, of COURSE for things they don't have at Trader Joe's. Sorry, Leslie and Chris, I almost lost my head. More rain followed us to El Liverito but we were secure in our little roadster, top up, wipers slapping time ("Me and my Bobby McGee") and thoughts of poor Lucy waiting anxiously for our return. After a pet or two, she viciously attacked my arm with claws and toofs, so I knew I was truly home. Maybe it will stop bleeding by tomorrow.

So as usual, I have talked your ear off. I can see it, right over there on the floor, near the couch. You'll be OK. It's not my fault. It's that damn prednisone again....yeah, that's the story...damn prednisone. And concentrated IV prednisone to boot.

Helplessly Hoping for French Toast Tomorrow Morning,

Bob/Irv