WE NOW TAKE YOU LIVE TO THE TRANSPLANT TRIB EDITOR/PUBLISHER'S NEWS CONFERENCE
Dear Readers, I come before you to stand behind you, to tell you something I know nothing about. After one of the three most horrible days we have spent (post-transplant) at UCSF, we schlepped our tired old asses into Universe Headquarters to find a message on our phone. It was from Gwen, the Family Services Coordinator at the California Transplant Donor Network. Her news.....my donor's family is very interested in meeting us. It will take place at the annual CTDN donor family recognition ceremony at Chabot College in Hayward, on April 30 at 12 noon. She said there would be eight family members attending, including my donor's mother.
Needless to say, we are both delighted and somewhat freaked. I am sure Gwen will give us a lot of guidance, so we will not trip. But after a bit of a wait, it finally will happen, at a significant event (1200 have been invited!). We are STOKED!!
We now return you to our regularly-scheduled programming, a rerun of Two-and-a Half Men starring the Actor Formerly Known as Charlie Sheen. Thank you for your kind attention. Tune to the Transplant Tribune for more breaking news.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
"Yes, Dear, I WILL Blog..."
"...BUT FIRST I GOTTA SHOP, COOK, DO DISHES,THROW IN SOME LAUNDRY, BLAH, BLAH.."
Man, I am even sick of myself already for constantly finding reasons not to share my thoughts and most intimate secrets (yuck!) with you, my Valued Audience. So I am gonna stop toting this barge and lifting that bale long enough to attempt to bring you up to "Speed", as it were.
CRUISIN' TO "THE CRUZ" AND "THE CREEK"
And, indeed, it was all about Speed, the central feature of our observance of my one-year transplant milestone. Sort of. We arrived at a rather spectacular facility in San Jose known as Club Auto Sport to take temporary possession of a 2008 Shelby GT 350. Club Sportiva is but one occupant of this rambling, glass-fronted building. The other occupants are a variety of high-end automotive and other enterprises, all situated in various-sized "condos" up and down long hallways. The hallways are lined with all manner of interesting vehicles, including those belonging to Club Sportiva. The large glass-enclosed area looking out on the street contains a bar, lounge area, and a number of racing and exotic cars. It bordered on automotive heaven.
On a concrete pad in front of the building was a black GT 350 with a prominent sign stating "Reserved for Robert Moss" . Pretty cool. After a perfunctory educational drive around the block to prove I could drive a 5-speed ("You wouldn't believe how many people can't drive a stick" the guy said) we set out towards Santa Cruz. After a lunch stop in Los Gatos, I pointed the car towards Hwy. 9, hoping for some spirited motoring. My experienced co-pilot immediately began pressing on her imaginary brake pedal, so I reluctantly cooled my jets. This was additionally motivated by a truly overwhelming amount of CHP attention to a black Mustang with broad silver racing stripes and a loud exhaust. Not to mention heavy homeward-bound traffic in the quaint mountain area.
We had a wonderful room at the Dream Inn, overlooking Monterey Bay. It was crystal-clear, and I even woke up in the dark to catch a thrilling sunrise. Cheryl joined me, and it was quite a moment. Our dinner was likewise remarkable, and not only due to impeccable food and service at Gabriella's. As I was looking at my menu, I noticed ashes dropping on it. I looked up to see Cherie's menu brightly ablaze. She had placed it unwittingly on top of the very small candle on the table and it went up in flames immediately. There was a bit of a stir in the very tiny dining room, but the server said "No big deal, it happens all the time".
Upon our return to "The Dream" both of us were overwhelmed by the previous post on this blog, authored by our exceptional son, Young Andrew. Another Moment was had on this one. We left The Cruz the next morning after a lovely brunch at Gayle's in Capitola, luckily no fires this time. Our trip back via Hwy. 17 was nice but average due to intense traffic.
After returning the Shelby, we joined Leslie, Chris, Sandy and Allen at one of our favorite spots, the Walnut Creek Yacht Club. This place always amazes us, since the waitstaff are incredibly knowledgable, and they write NOTHING down at the table! Yet everything is delivered to the correct person by runners, with none of that "OK, who had the meatloaf?" crap you get most everywhere else. They had been tipped off about the occasion, and were quite gracious and interested in the reason we were there. All this, along with Leslie's incredible customized transplant balloon arrangement, made a great evening.
LUNCH AT THE "TOWER" HAD LOTS O' POWER
"The Big Finish" of the happy/sad anniversary was spent in Sacramento. We luckily caught Dear Linsey before she jetted away to "Joysey" for more Quest education and a visit to The Big Apple. She and Andy guided us to the Tower Cafe, located very near our one-time residence, 2619 T St. We enjoyed a nice lunch amidst eclectic decorations including several Freda Caldo self-portait prints. After a brief visit back at Andy's and Linz's house, speaking with our grandog Sampson, we departed for home. So the observance ended, and we collapsed, fully spent, yet pleased with our varied activities.
A TRANSPLANT TRIB FIRST: EDITORIAL COMMENTARY
An undesirable feature of Irv v 1.0 was excessive anxiety between the end of one racing season and the start of the next. Our advanced version, Irv 2.0, was purged of this objectionable glitch, thus enabling the user (me) to arrive at the start of the 2011 season relaxed, refreshed, and with happy expectations for a great gaggle of races. One of these is the Formula 1 opener, the Grand Prix of Bahrain, taking place on March 13.
I have been following the upheaval in the Middle East closely, since it is bound to affect us all in one way or another. Now that Bahrain is in a turmoil, I was interested to see how it would impact the Grand Prix. This event takes place at a lavish and expensively-constructed circuit, built to attract F1 because the Crown Prince is an avid fan of the sport. It is attended by many royal family members, oil sheiks, and prominent government personnel, but few from the local general public. Since attendance is relatively light, the event is highly subsidized by the monarchy for its own entertainment.
The head poo-bah of Formula 1, representing the huge financial interests of the racing teams, is the ultra-wealthy, all-powerful and quite elderly Bernie Ecclestone. When asked if he would allow these teams to travel to Bahrain and stage the race, he stated that things would "blow away" in a few days, permitting the event to go forward. This viewpoint was formed based on a phone call from some of Bernie's advance TV crew, who glanced out of their hotel window to ascertain the intensity of the happenings. Seeing nothing at this particular location, they reported that all was quiet. Bernie said he was leaving it to the Bahraini organizers anyway.
To my great relief, the track operators chose to cancel the Grand Prix. This would not be a good time to parade multi-million dollar racing cars driven by multi-millionaire drivers and watched by hordes of multi-millionaire royals in front of rabid protesters. To my mind, a most obvious and wise decision. The door is still open, however, to stage the race at the end of the F1 season, late November. That is, if there is still an autocratic monarchical government in power at the time. At any rate, for once, I am damned glad I have to wait two extra weeks for Melbourne. Thank you all for indulging me.....
COMING IN THE NEXT TRANSPLANT TRIBUNE, ON NOOZSTANDS SOON!
Jenny Moss makes her Triumphal Return to "Cali"; Our take on the Daytona 500: A trip to Heart Clinic; CTDN duties at a San Ramon blood drive; and much, much more!
Bob/Irv
Man, I am even sick of myself already for constantly finding reasons not to share my thoughts and most intimate secrets (yuck!) with you, my Valued Audience. So I am gonna stop toting this barge and lifting that bale long enough to attempt to bring you up to "Speed", as it were.
CRUISIN' TO "THE CRUZ" AND "THE CREEK"
And, indeed, it was all about Speed, the central feature of our observance of my one-year transplant milestone. Sort of. We arrived at a rather spectacular facility in San Jose known as Club Auto Sport to take temporary possession of a 2008 Shelby GT 350. Club Sportiva is but one occupant of this rambling, glass-fronted building. The other occupants are a variety of high-end automotive and other enterprises, all situated in various-sized "condos" up and down long hallways. The hallways are lined with all manner of interesting vehicles, including those belonging to Club Sportiva. The large glass-enclosed area looking out on the street contains a bar, lounge area, and a number of racing and exotic cars. It bordered on automotive heaven.
On a concrete pad in front of the building was a black GT 350 with a prominent sign stating "Reserved for Robert Moss" . Pretty cool. After a perfunctory educational drive around the block to prove I could drive a 5-speed ("You wouldn't believe how many people can't drive a stick" the guy said) we set out towards Santa Cruz. After a lunch stop in Los Gatos, I pointed the car towards Hwy. 9, hoping for some spirited motoring. My experienced co-pilot immediately began pressing on her imaginary brake pedal, so I reluctantly cooled my jets. This was additionally motivated by a truly overwhelming amount of CHP attention to a black Mustang with broad silver racing stripes and a loud exhaust. Not to mention heavy homeward-bound traffic in the quaint mountain area.
We had a wonderful room at the Dream Inn, overlooking Monterey Bay. It was crystal-clear, and I even woke up in the dark to catch a thrilling sunrise. Cheryl joined me, and it was quite a moment. Our dinner was likewise remarkable, and not only due to impeccable food and service at Gabriella's. As I was looking at my menu, I noticed ashes dropping on it. I looked up to see Cherie's menu brightly ablaze. She had placed it unwittingly on top of the very small candle on the table and it went up in flames immediately. There was a bit of a stir in the very tiny dining room, but the server said "No big deal, it happens all the time".
Upon our return to "The Dream" both of us were overwhelmed by the previous post on this blog, authored by our exceptional son, Young Andrew. Another Moment was had on this one. We left The Cruz the next morning after a lovely brunch at Gayle's in Capitola, luckily no fires this time. Our trip back via Hwy. 17 was nice but average due to intense traffic.
After returning the Shelby, we joined Leslie, Chris, Sandy and Allen at one of our favorite spots, the Walnut Creek Yacht Club. This place always amazes us, since the waitstaff are incredibly knowledgable, and they write NOTHING down at the table! Yet everything is delivered to the correct person by runners, with none of that "OK, who had the meatloaf?" crap you get most everywhere else. They had been tipped off about the occasion, and were quite gracious and interested in the reason we were there. All this, along with Leslie's incredible customized transplant balloon arrangement, made a great evening.
LUNCH AT THE "TOWER" HAD LOTS O' POWER
"The Big Finish" of the happy/sad anniversary was spent in Sacramento. We luckily caught Dear Linsey before she jetted away to "Joysey" for more Quest education and a visit to The Big Apple. She and Andy guided us to the Tower Cafe, located very near our one-time residence, 2619 T St. We enjoyed a nice lunch amidst eclectic decorations including several Freda Caldo self-portait prints. After a brief visit back at Andy's and Linz's house, speaking with our grandog Sampson, we departed for home. So the observance ended, and we collapsed, fully spent, yet pleased with our varied activities.
A TRANSPLANT TRIB FIRST: EDITORIAL COMMENTARY
An undesirable feature of Irv v 1.0 was excessive anxiety between the end of one racing season and the start of the next. Our advanced version, Irv 2.0, was purged of this objectionable glitch, thus enabling the user (me) to arrive at the start of the 2011 season relaxed, refreshed, and with happy expectations for a great gaggle of races. One of these is the Formula 1 opener, the Grand Prix of Bahrain, taking place on March 13.
I have been following the upheaval in the Middle East closely, since it is bound to affect us all in one way or another. Now that Bahrain is in a turmoil, I was interested to see how it would impact the Grand Prix. This event takes place at a lavish and expensively-constructed circuit, built to attract F1 because the Crown Prince is an avid fan of the sport. It is attended by many royal family members, oil sheiks, and prominent government personnel, but few from the local general public. Since attendance is relatively light, the event is highly subsidized by the monarchy for its own entertainment.
The head poo-bah of Formula 1, representing the huge financial interests of the racing teams, is the ultra-wealthy, all-powerful and quite elderly Bernie Ecclestone. When asked if he would allow these teams to travel to Bahrain and stage the race, he stated that things would "blow away" in a few days, permitting the event to go forward. This viewpoint was formed based on a phone call from some of Bernie's advance TV crew, who glanced out of their hotel window to ascertain the intensity of the happenings. Seeing nothing at this particular location, they reported that all was quiet. Bernie said he was leaving it to the Bahraini organizers anyway.
To my great relief, the track operators chose to cancel the Grand Prix. This would not be a good time to parade multi-million dollar racing cars driven by multi-millionaire drivers and watched by hordes of multi-millionaire royals in front of rabid protesters. To my mind, a most obvious and wise decision. The door is still open, however, to stage the race at the end of the F1 season, late November. That is, if there is still an autocratic monarchical government in power at the time. At any rate, for once, I am damned glad I have to wait two extra weeks for Melbourne. Thank you all for indulging me.....
COMING IN THE NEXT TRANSPLANT TRIBUNE, ON NOOZSTANDS SOON!
Jenny Moss makes her Triumphal Return to "Cali"; Our take on the Daytona 500: A trip to Heart Clinic; CTDN duties at a San Ramon blood drive; and much, much more!
Bob/Irv
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
A Different Perspective
Hello. This is not Your Editor, this is a special guest blogger. I have hacked into the system here at The Trib while the "Big Cheeses" speed around California in exotic cars. This breach is necessary, I truly feel, so that another perspective can be had on the one year mark of RJM v2.0. Also, my Dad has been asking anyone with something remotely intelligent to say to go ahead and say it here. Despite that requirement, here I am. Allow myself to introduce....myself......Andrew J. Moss duh.
Really though, so much has been said here in this forum regarding the ups and downs, the bumps in the road, the puns, the cheers, the jeers, the catheters, and of course, the unbelievable gratitude toward those involved in every aspect of the process. I simply want to express a couple of things and leave the juicy stuff to the professional. As many of you may know, there is a beautiful creature named Linz who for some reason wants me to be around her. She and I began dating in December 2004. This was basically not a great time for our family as we lost our Gram (though Linz did get to meet her), and RJM was starting to feel really crappy. The next five years were not so kind to him of course, and one thing that became difficult for me was relating things to Linz about my Dad, like stories of yesteryear. It became fairly common for her to ask things like "wait, we're talking about your Dad right?"
Many things she heard about him from the old days seemed downright impossible to her. His energy wasn't there, his wit, his drive, his smile-gone. He was still a nice guy, but we knew it wasn't him. You probably know what I'm getting at. Linz now knows the real guy. This makes me incredibly happy, for awhile I thought we may never see the real guy again. My mother and I would talk about this, but of course she was ever the optimist, to say it mildly. Im sure this applies to RJ's other acquired kiddo, Lucky Man. He didnt quite get to know RJ until he was sick, and boy is he bearing the brunt of RJ's resumed vigor.
The lengths my parents went to are not at all lost on me. The choices made by strangers either. The things that had to happen for me to crack my ass up at my Dad again are staggering and amazing. But that's my family for you, staggering and amazing. One year later things are looking better than I could have imagined. Thanks to you all.
Really though, so much has been said here in this forum regarding the ups and downs, the bumps in the road, the puns, the cheers, the jeers, the catheters, and of course, the unbelievable gratitude toward those involved in every aspect of the process. I simply want to express a couple of things and leave the juicy stuff to the professional. As many of you may know, there is a beautiful creature named Linz who for some reason wants me to be around her. She and I began dating in December 2004. This was basically not a great time for our family as we lost our Gram (though Linz did get to meet her), and RJM was starting to feel really crappy. The next five years were not so kind to him of course, and one thing that became difficult for me was relating things to Linz about my Dad, like stories of yesteryear. It became fairly common for her to ask things like "wait, we're talking about your Dad right?"
Many things she heard about him from the old days seemed downright impossible to her. His energy wasn't there, his wit, his drive, his smile-gone. He was still a nice guy, but we knew it wasn't him. You probably know what I'm getting at. Linz now knows the real guy. This makes me incredibly happy, for awhile I thought we may never see the real guy again. My mother and I would talk about this, but of course she was ever the optimist, to say it mildly. Im sure this applies to RJ's other acquired kiddo, Lucky Man. He didnt quite get to know RJ until he was sick, and boy is he bearing the brunt of RJ's resumed vigor.
The lengths my parents went to are not at all lost on me. The choices made by strangers either. The things that had to happen for me to crack my ass up at my Dad again are staggering and amazing. But that's my family for you, staggering and amazing. One year later things are looking better than I could have imagined. Thanks to you all.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
One Year Traveling That Transplant Turnpike
PLEASE STOP FOR A MINUTE
I am incredibly glad to have reached this major milestone. But my joy is tempered by thoughts of one truly integral part of why I am at this point. And that part is my donor and his family. I still know very little about them, but I do decidedly know that this one-year anniversary is, for them, much different than it is for me and all who have followed our journey. I think of them constantly, but never more than now. I know how we feel when we reach those dates that mark losses we have had, and I know it has to be remarkably difficult for them right now. So, if you would, please give a thought for them as you help me to appreciate what I am so lucky to have. Thanks.
NORMALCY IS RATHER NICE
At the risk of jinxing a good thing, I have to say we are rather enjoying a run of, well, of nothing for a change. By this I mean nothing medical. Labs have been very good, so no medication changes in quite some time. The frequency of my lab visits is now monthly, down from weekly, and that is a real treat. My wonderful transplant team have become partial strangers since communication is only periodic, and I have not called them, they call me! And it's always positive nooz to boot.
I am still a major fan of my phlebotomists, coordinators, physicians and all of the talented people who have helped to get me here. But unlike some other recipients (who I will not mention), I do not need attention and admiration from my health care providers to sustain me. Sure, it is great when I do visit UCSF, which will continue more infrequently as time goes on. But, what the Hell, I gotta life outside of the transplant world! I continue to look forward to participation in transplant-related activities through our volunteerism, but let us all enjoy what we have hoped for all this long time. Viva Normalcy!
BEACH BLANKET BABYLON IS BANANAS!
Due to the incredible generosity of The Dinner Gang, Cheryl was presented two tickets to see this continually-amazing show ("no birthday gifts please" to the contrary notwithstanding) after our monthly meal for February. Dinner was scheduled at Capp's Corner, conveniently located about 40 feet from Club Fugazzi. After a traditional Italian meal, we made our way that 40 feet to the line awaiting admission to BBB.
The only negative note was that (once again) a health situation conspired to squash our enjoyment. That situation was an unexpected relapse of my back/leg condition that reduced me to painful hobbling with my cane, Carl. Like Mr. Foley before him, Carl the Cane is an unwelcome but necessary guest. At least he is of a much better and more comfortable disposition than Mr. F. was.
I must thank The Gang for not only the show, but for rallying to my aid as I foolishly attempted to be Mr. Machismo and make believe I was OK. Even the gracious Club person taking our tickets joined Cheryl in preventing me from stoopidly starting up the stairs to our balcony seats. Several times, Gang members ("Dinner Gangsters"?) caught my stumbles or carried my stuff. These are the folks who have showed up at many different outbreaks of the Heart Health Hijinks, and the support and affection they have illustrated to us all these years is truly overwhelming. Thanks you guys and girls, you ROCK!
CALL ME THE GROOVY GOOFY GADGET GUY OF COMPANY "G"
Well, you don't really have to call me that, you can call me "Six Gee" and that would be fine. Just don't call me "Late to Dinner", ha ha! But, why the Hell am I now "Six Gee" if I am not a rap singer? It is 'cuz I now have more gadgets hanging off of me than my nerdy friend Jerry back in high school. Jerry had a belt-mounted slide rule, a pen holster, a tissue dispenser, and one of those change-making thingies around his Pillsbury Dough Boy midsection. If there had been calculators or cell phones in 1965, he woulda had those too.
Alright, I don't have THAT many. But in addition to my original little parasitic friend, my trusty insulin pump (no name assigned), I now am the proud host organism of a Dexcom System Seven Plus Continuous Glucose Monitor. This handy apparatus takes my blood sugar from a tiny probe under my skin, converts it to an electrical signal and sends it to a receiver I wear, yes, on my belt. The receiver displays a blood sugar reading every five minutes, and an arrow indicating if my glucose level is steady, rising or declining. If it is rising or falling faster than the predetermined rates, it warns me with vibrations and beeps in increasing intensity. When I tell it I am taking care of the situation, it is happy and goes back to its normal program, which as we all know is already in progress. Amazing is the only description of this high-tech item, and it should go along way in preventing those very scary super lows I have unfortunately had.
Luckily, I can carry the receiver in a pocket instead of on my belt, but that too can be controversial ("Hey, Bob/Irv, is that a Dexcom System Seven receiver in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"). So I try to stick it in a jacket pocket to avoid unnecessarily embarrassing situations. When I do hang it belt-ways, I feel like The Lone Ranger with twin six-shooters, and guns too. If you catch my meaning, if you get my drift.
THE ANNIVERSARY EVENTS
I do plan to enjoy a couple of excellent observations of this day. Cheryl and I will pick up our Shelby GT 350 in San Jose today at the new HQ of my "old" car-share, Club Sportiva. I no longer can afford to be a member (two grand just to hang around the clubhouse!?!) but they do have a sale on daily rentals at half price for poor stiffs like us. I originally reserved a BMW M3, but just yesterday I was informed it was in the body shop following an "incident". Ouch. Some jerk is out a buncha $$$ on that one.
I was offered a choice of replacements (alas, the brand-new Ferrari 458 Italia was not one of them), and I chose a 2008 Shelby GT 350. This is a Mustang modified by a boyhood hero, Carroll Shelby, who some may remember from a previous post as a racing driver who retired due to chronic heart disease. He went on to concoct the Shelby Cobra as well as Carroll Shelby's Chili, and in fact received both a heart and a kidney transplant later in life. Moreover, in college I foolishly reveled in my ownership of a 1966 GT 350, regrettably relinquished after nine months due to no $$$ and the onset of diabetes.
We will travel to Santa Cruz and the Dream Inn, there to savor the many attractions of The Cruz. Perhaps some tasty and healthful food will be carefully consumed, and some sights seen. Always fun in that area, and a bit nostalgic owing to my short but memorable stint at The Old Santa Cruz Railway, part of the long-shuttered Big Yellow House madness.
Upon our return to Reality, CA after surrendering the Shelby, we will join several Chaw family members to mark our milestone over some skillfully-prepared marine life at the Walnut Creek Yacht Club. No yachts, of course, but some kick-ass seafood and oysters for my mochatunum, and, OK, you too LuckyMan. And that's a good thing.
A SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT: LIFESTYLE Rx CARDIAC REHAB
I have been a client of the cardiac rehabilitation program at ValleyCare's LifeStyle Rx campus here in Santa Livermonica for nearly six years now. And it's a 12-week session! By all rights, I should have overstayed my welcome in 2006, but like the cat, I just come back the very next day ("they thought he was a goner"). The nurses and therapists there are intensely concerned about all their "flock", and have stuck with me through many adventures. I keep going due to their talented stewardship of my exercise regimen and their genuine concern for my well-being.
I found an envelope on my chart Monday containing a most lovely congratulatory card on my achievement of one year post-transplant. It was signed by the staff and several of the current patients in my session. Amazingly, a signer was one of my fellow rehabees (izzat a word?), Livermore resident Fred, who also received a heart and kidney at UCSF. Talk about a shared experience!
I must make a special point to express my gratitude to Laura, Tina, Kyle, Jed, Annette, Eileen, Sony, Anne and all the past and present staff at LifeStyle for their extraordinary care, concern, and support for these many years. You guys are the best!
AND, SO, THERE YOU HAVE IT.....BUT OH YEAH, ONE MORE THING
I know it is repetitive as s**t, but I just gotta give it up for Cheryl, all my family, my incredible friends, and all of the health care providers who got me through five crappy years. And again, the amazing generosity of my donor and his family, whoever and wherever they may be. My gratitude to all is bountiful and eternal.
Bob/Irv
I am incredibly glad to have reached this major milestone. But my joy is tempered by thoughts of one truly integral part of why I am at this point. And that part is my donor and his family. I still know very little about them, but I do decidedly know that this one-year anniversary is, for them, much different than it is for me and all who have followed our journey. I think of them constantly, but never more than now. I know how we feel when we reach those dates that mark losses we have had, and I know it has to be remarkably difficult for them right now. So, if you would, please give a thought for them as you help me to appreciate what I am so lucky to have. Thanks.
NORMALCY IS RATHER NICE
At the risk of jinxing a good thing, I have to say we are rather enjoying a run of, well, of nothing for a change. By this I mean nothing medical. Labs have been very good, so no medication changes in quite some time. The frequency of my lab visits is now monthly, down from weekly, and that is a real treat. My wonderful transplant team have become partial strangers since communication is only periodic, and I have not called them, they call me! And it's always positive nooz to boot.
I am still a major fan of my phlebotomists, coordinators, physicians and all of the talented people who have helped to get me here. But unlike some other recipients (who I will not mention), I do not need attention and admiration from my health care providers to sustain me. Sure, it is great when I do visit UCSF, which will continue more infrequently as time goes on. But, what the Hell, I gotta life outside of the transplant world! I continue to look forward to participation in transplant-related activities through our volunteerism, but let us all enjoy what we have hoped for all this long time. Viva Normalcy!
BEACH BLANKET BABYLON IS BANANAS!
Due to the incredible generosity of The Dinner Gang, Cheryl was presented two tickets to see this continually-amazing show ("no birthday gifts please" to the contrary notwithstanding) after our monthly meal for February. Dinner was scheduled at Capp's Corner, conveniently located about 40 feet from Club Fugazzi. After a traditional Italian meal, we made our way that 40 feet to the line awaiting admission to BBB.
The only negative note was that (once again) a health situation conspired to squash our enjoyment. That situation was an unexpected relapse of my back/leg condition that reduced me to painful hobbling with my cane, Carl. Like Mr. Foley before him, Carl the Cane is an unwelcome but necessary guest. At least he is of a much better and more comfortable disposition than Mr. F. was.
I must thank The Gang for not only the show, but for rallying to my aid as I foolishly attempted to be Mr. Machismo and make believe I was OK. Even the gracious Club person taking our tickets joined Cheryl in preventing me from stoopidly starting up the stairs to our balcony seats. Several times, Gang members ("Dinner Gangsters"?) caught my stumbles or carried my stuff. These are the folks who have showed up at many different outbreaks of the Heart Health Hijinks, and the support and affection they have illustrated to us all these years is truly overwhelming. Thanks you guys and girls, you ROCK!
CALL ME THE GROOVY GOOFY GADGET GUY OF COMPANY "G"
Well, you don't really have to call me that, you can call me "Six Gee" and that would be fine. Just don't call me "Late to Dinner", ha ha! But, why the Hell am I now "Six Gee" if I am not a rap singer? It is 'cuz I now have more gadgets hanging off of me than my nerdy friend Jerry back in high school. Jerry had a belt-mounted slide rule, a pen holster, a tissue dispenser, and one of those change-making thingies around his Pillsbury Dough Boy midsection. If there had been calculators or cell phones in 1965, he woulda had those too.
Alright, I don't have THAT many. But in addition to my original little parasitic friend, my trusty insulin pump (no name assigned), I now am the proud host organism of a Dexcom System Seven Plus Continuous Glucose Monitor. This handy apparatus takes my blood sugar from a tiny probe under my skin, converts it to an electrical signal and sends it to a receiver I wear, yes, on my belt. The receiver displays a blood sugar reading every five minutes, and an arrow indicating if my glucose level is steady, rising or declining. If it is rising or falling faster than the predetermined rates, it warns me with vibrations and beeps in increasing intensity. When I tell it I am taking care of the situation, it is happy and goes back to its normal program, which as we all know is already in progress. Amazing is the only description of this high-tech item, and it should go along way in preventing those very scary super lows I have unfortunately had.
Luckily, I can carry the receiver in a pocket instead of on my belt, but that too can be controversial ("Hey, Bob/Irv, is that a Dexcom System Seven receiver in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?"). So I try to stick it in a jacket pocket to avoid unnecessarily embarrassing situations. When I do hang it belt-ways, I feel like The Lone Ranger with twin six-shooters, and guns too. If you catch my meaning, if you get my drift.
THE ANNIVERSARY EVENTS
I do plan to enjoy a couple of excellent observations of this day. Cheryl and I will pick up our Shelby GT 350 in San Jose today at the new HQ of my "old" car-share, Club Sportiva. I no longer can afford to be a member (two grand just to hang around the clubhouse!?!) but they do have a sale on daily rentals at half price for poor stiffs like us. I originally reserved a BMW M3, but just yesterday I was informed it was in the body shop following an "incident". Ouch. Some jerk is out a buncha $$$ on that one.
I was offered a choice of replacements (alas, the brand-new Ferrari 458 Italia was not one of them), and I chose a 2008 Shelby GT 350. This is a Mustang modified by a boyhood hero, Carroll Shelby, who some may remember from a previous post as a racing driver who retired due to chronic heart disease. He went on to concoct the Shelby Cobra as well as Carroll Shelby's Chili, and in fact received both a heart and a kidney transplant later in life. Moreover, in college I foolishly reveled in my ownership of a 1966 GT 350, regrettably relinquished after nine months due to no $$$ and the onset of diabetes.
We will travel to Santa Cruz and the Dream Inn, there to savor the many attractions of The Cruz. Perhaps some tasty and healthful food will be carefully consumed, and some sights seen. Always fun in that area, and a bit nostalgic owing to my short but memorable stint at The Old Santa Cruz Railway, part of the long-shuttered Big Yellow House madness.
Upon our return to Reality, CA after surrendering the Shelby, we will join several Chaw family members to mark our milestone over some skillfully-prepared marine life at the Walnut Creek Yacht Club. No yachts, of course, but some kick-ass seafood and oysters for my mochatunum, and, OK, you too LuckyMan. And that's a good thing.
A SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT: LIFESTYLE Rx CARDIAC REHAB
I have been a client of the cardiac rehabilitation program at ValleyCare's LifeStyle Rx campus here in Santa Livermonica for nearly six years now. And it's a 12-week session! By all rights, I should have overstayed my welcome in 2006, but like the cat, I just come back the very next day ("they thought he was a goner"). The nurses and therapists there are intensely concerned about all their "flock", and have stuck with me through many adventures. I keep going due to their talented stewardship of my exercise regimen and their genuine concern for my well-being.
I found an envelope on my chart Monday containing a most lovely congratulatory card on my achievement of one year post-transplant. It was signed by the staff and several of the current patients in my session. Amazingly, a signer was one of my fellow rehabees (izzat a word?), Livermore resident Fred, who also received a heart and kidney at UCSF. Talk about a shared experience!
I must make a special point to express my gratitude to Laura, Tina, Kyle, Jed, Annette, Eileen, Sony, Anne and all the past and present staff at LifeStyle for their extraordinary care, concern, and support for these many years. You guys are the best!
AND, SO, THERE YOU HAVE IT.....BUT OH YEAH, ONE MORE THING
I know it is repetitive as s**t, but I just gotta give it up for Cheryl, all my family, my incredible friends, and all of the health care providers who got me through five crappy years. And again, the amazing generosity of my donor and his family, whoever and wherever they may be. My gratitude to all is bountiful and eternal.
Bob/Irv
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