To Hospital Hell and Back

RELAX, I WAS NOT THE PATIENT, FORTUNATELY

Just yesterday I experienced one of the most frightening medical-facility days of my life. As is well-chronicled, I have had a few anxious moments in hospitals over the years, both job- and patient-related, so I do have credentials, eh? Once again in my role as a CTDN Donate Life Ambassador (you may simply refer to me as "Mr. Ambassador" or "Hey Dummy", whichever you prefer) I offered to help at a donor registration information at a hospital I shall refer to only as "Hospital X", or just X for short. This is to protect both CTDN as well as members of our family from any unpleasantness arising from my comments.

After a brief self-inflicted period of confusion finding the parking garage, I began the inevitable stopping and staring at the floor plans posted on the walls for visitor guidance. Those and the signing were not bad, but most of the medical centers with which I was connected have conducted extensive employee training in customer awareness. The most basic component of these is noticing and assisting people who are obviously in need of directional assistance. I have noticed recently in other hospitals that often staff members will approach politely even if you don't seem lost but are just obviously a visitor, and offer assistance before you need to ask. And in many situations when directions are necessary, employees will actually physically guide you at least part-way to your destination, instead of just pointing and saying "Just go down there, turn left, then spin around backwards three times and turn right, You can't miss it". Thank Disney for providing the nice way to help people find stuff.

Well, as you can imagine, nobody could tear themselves away from talking basketball or "shooting the s**t" so to speak, in order to help me out. I correctly guessed our table would be in the cafeteria, and when I spotted the Donate Life banner in the hallway, I knew I was on target.

The good news was that the table was attended by Laura from CTDN and Frank, a rare heart/kidney recipient. As we got acquainted I could not help but start to eyeball the area. So the bad news is that it was a train wreck. Maybe you've seen something like this; signs on everything saying "Don't Do This" and "Out of Order", negative crap like that. And of course there were empty pans of unappetizing food, all cold items since no hot food is offered until dinner hours (a common practice in even well-run operations). But way worse was the employees' level of attention (no, not more of that!).

After wandering around the serving area a bit, I was treated to some very healthy shouting as a cook was hailing a friend who could well have been somewhere South of Gilroy, such was the decibel level. I stopped to speak with the cashier but gave up after she failed to look up from her texting session. In checking out the nearby coffee cart, again I went unnoticed by the attendant who was not only paying rapt attention to her cell phone, but was simultaneously entertaining a young child while she "worked" inside the cart. All this while many of the dining room tables were liberally decorated with dirty trays and dishes, abandoned newspapers, and crumpled napkins, one of my major pet peeves from the Old Daze. Absolutely no attention was given to even a cursory cleanup, as it would have proven distracting to shouting, texting and child care. Sheesh.

Luckily the day was saved when Laura allowed me to attend a brief educational session with her for the nurses of the ER. The purpose was to inform them of an upcoming seminar on transplantation, although the staff on this very busy urban emergency unit were already well-informed on the subject. Laura ran up and down the corridors telling anyone who was not too busy to "come meet this recipient guy", which they did. It was quite gratifying to speak with several of these brave souls, who were either fighting grim battles in the treatment rooms (and hallways...Yikes!) or about to thankfully exit at shift's end.

Laura guided me back to the garage and I made a successful escape from X without too much physical harm. I pulled to the curb to phone Cheryl, and noticed a strangely-customized Pontiac of some sort maneuvering up to a gas pump next to the street where I was parked while the driver pulled on a cigarette. Not wanting to suffer major burns in the impending explosion, I hung up and made swiftly for the freeway and our safe humble home in the 'burbs.

OTHER STUFF

Seems like bullet lists make reading go faster, except you get stressed like you gotta read all this bunko and sign it before the guy behind you in line gets perturbed and pulls out an assault weapon from his iPad case. So please, don't trip if you decide to check out the next section of both social and scientific natures: (Dammit, I don't know if bullets are possible on this blog! So how about dashes? Ok, you say? OK, then!)

-Our heavily-anticipated visit to the Spine Center at UCSF was accurately predicted by my Livermore heart/kidney buddy, Fred. He and I were both told we could do physical therapy, drugs, or both. Depending on our "lifestyle decisions" if those were insufficient then the only "cure" would be back surgery. We are both taking Door Number One, PT. So far, so good, and I do feel pretty good most days.

-After lunch with my Muir friends Ken and Mike, I was afforded a guided tour of the new kitchen at John Muir, Walnut Creek Campus by my comparades Sandi, Alison, Pat, JP and Dennis. It was nothing short of magical, since the old facility put a staggering amount of meals out of a very tiny preparation area. The new one is vast, with refrigeration everywhere and a storeroom that could easily be the new home of Your Oakland Athletics, thus saving lots of taxpayer $$$ trying to keep Al Davis from moving the team to West Allis, WI if he doesn't get a new, spectacular stadium.

-Admitted to 12 Moffitt at UCSF on a Sunday evening for an early-Monday angiogram on my right upper leg. The anticipated obstruction was confirmed and stented, and after a gruelling six hours of flat bedrest I was able to end my visit on my beloved 10 Long. Despite promises, I was not served French toast Tuesday morning, but my wonderful nurse was able to contact the kitchen and the prized dish was promptly delivered. After a relatively swift discharge process, we beat it East and got home quite quickly to resume normal life with no complications of any kind.

- Once again faithfully representing CTDN, it was a pleasure to visit our very own Livermore Veterans Administration Medical Center. It is on top of a hill opposite Wente Vineyards Champagne Cellars on Wetmore Rd. in Livermore's wine-and-luxury living area. I will confess that after 32 years here in La Livermoria we have never taken the tortuous 15 mph, 1/4 mile trip to the hospital. Not only is it remarkably beautiful, but all the staff we encountered were noticeably happy to be there. This is in part due to the many programs and training opportunities afforded to them by the VA. Our discussions about organ donation and my own experiences were quite exceptional. I was told I would have fifteen minutes to talk about my transplant story, and it turned out I was the one and only "speaker". The reaction to my remarks was quite positive and enthusiastic, a great source of good feelings for me and the listeners.

- A most unusual Dinner with the Gang was enjoyed all the way out here in our town, at Campo di Bocce. After a rousing session of bocce, beverages and snacks, we sat down for an inconsistently-prepared dinner served with wildly mediocre waiting skill. Yes, it was busy, yes, it was noisy, and yes, the manager was sitting at the bar scarfing his dinner while mayhem swirled all around. Still, a great time was had by all, and I managed to throw a "Good Evening" screen pass at John Madden as he exited the restaurant.

-Just this morning I was graciously allowed to offer brief comments to two of the weekly Weight Watcher sessions on the occasion of National Donate Life Month. Again they were warmly accepted. I even spoke directly with three ladies, one who wants to donate a kidney to a relative, one who wanted information on donor registry, and one who lost her husband two years ago. This nice person was proud to have had his organs donated, the liver to a relative and the others to recipients not yet known. She attended the annual recognition ceremony in Hayward last year, and said it was quite a session for her and her family. She and I most definitely shared a moment, neither of us leaving with completely dry eyes.

WHICH LEADS TO....

I might be telling you of my weekend driving plans or the approach of some major race this weekend. But before you change the channel on me and switch to Maury Povich or Dr. Oz, please, hold on a second. This coming weekend will be one of the very most momentous two days of our lives, as we join Leslie, Chris, Linsey and Andy to meet my donor family for the first time, on Saturday. Sunday, we will be greeters for the event, and then I will appear onstage with two groups of recipients, an adult group and a youth group. We will enter holding hands, then each delivere a one-line message about ourselves and our transplants. Everyone who has been to this has said what a highly meaningful and emotional thing it all is. We are excited, scared, happy, nervous....all of it.

Seems like every day is bringing both transplant-related and other joys. I think this could be habit-forming. Hope so.

Bob/Irv