The Perfect UCSF Storm, Without the Sinking and Drowning and Stuff

WE DO THE CASTRO CANTER, NOT THE PARNASSUS POLKA

In a rare explosion of organizational correctness, we experienced one of the finest days ever, high above Kezar recently. We were shaking in our boots (figuratively, since we have no boots and don't care to...so there) as we approached our lofty destination. Why? Despite our endless affection for the many fine folks on staff, when we are summoned to the mount for multiple appointments things rarely go to plan. But this time, it was very similar to clockwork, as they say in Switzerland. And as an added bonus, we received good nooz at each stop along the way. These stops included appearances at both the kidney and heart clinics, and an ultrasound along with a visit with eminent vascular surgeon Dr. Charles E.

I got passing grades from everyone, a surprise to anybody who might have been unfortunate enough to have attended any institution of learning with me. The only equivocating report came from Dr. E. after I described my chronic leg/back/foot/gezingus pain. From his astute viewpoint, I am just at the very top of the slippery slope of serious vascular deterioration. Great for me, but my joy was tempered by what looms at the bottom of the slippery slope, which unfortunately is not a warm Irish coffee at the ski lodge down there. Simply stated, the horrible finale of this condition entails amputation, a concept that has terrified me ever since my VERY unpleasant stay at John Muir four years ago. I was there to have a catheter installed on my upper chest, and to begin dialysis. My "enjoyment" was severely hampered by being assigned to accommodations with two "roomies". One guy coded at 2:00 am, and all Hell did comprehensively break loose in that crowded little room. The other gentleman was a very unhappy double amputee, suffering from diabetes, kidney failure, and cardiovascular disease. Sound like someone we all know? Literally scared the s**t outta me, which, by the way, I was asked to describe in detail to the nurse while visiting with Cheryl and Sandy C., our beloved in-law. We are talking about serious hospital inquiries here, and if you get squeamish talking about poopie, you don't belong in a hospital.

OK, sorry for the rant....anyway we finished up at UCSF exactly on time and were able to boogie outta Dodge before the upturned meat cleavers affected our crossing of the Bay Bridge. Everything health-wise seems to be operating effectively. My next expedition will include a heart biopsy and the mysterious Allomap lab test, a future non-invasive replacement for catheterization to determine the level of rejection of the heart.

NOW THAT YOU ARE COMPLETELY BUMMED OUT.....

On to the happy crap. We were able to fly to Florida, do our thing(s), and return without any medical or psychological crises. Well, maybe a litle psychological crisis when I engaged in an hour-long conversation with a nice lady sitting next to us. We covered a myriad of subjects, mainly the educational and child-bearing accomplishments of her many offspring. And their offspring. Showing me endless pictures on her laptop, I lost count of the members of the family, only recalling that she has 13 grandchildren and that her daughters and daughters-in-law are still young and ready to push out lots more. Cherie opened her book and let me take one for the team, so to speak. You're certainly welcome, Dear.

Florida was, well, uh, it was Florida, after all. Our hosts, Don and Diana L., were very hospitable when they were not answering calls, sending texts, reading emails, or generally running their burgeoning golf empire. We did tag along to Club Med Sandpiper, just a hop, skip, and jump from Boca in Port St. Lucie up the ol' FL Turnpike. Don and Diana run the whole golf department there, and believe me this is no pitch 'n' putt operation. Young persons from all over the world come to Club Med to be taught serious golf by Mr. L., the Face of Golf for the Entire South Florida Kingdom. Seriously.

While all this golf and texting was taking place, Cheryl made tracks directly to the "Family" pool. That's the "clothing not optional" pool, as differentiated from both the adult pool and the kiddie pool. Which both require bathing attire, but the adult pool allows "b**t floss" while at the kiddie pool, only the dental variety is welcome. Meanwhile, my nephew David and I just hung out. We made effective use of the fitness center while enjoying some brisk exercise, then staggered around the grounds hoping to find Diana or Cheryl for further instructions on how to correctly behave. We were unsuccessful in that regard, and behaved badly.


The day was saved when we found the Slice Bar. Since we were there on a day pass, we were able to avail ourselves of food and adult beverages to our heart's content, completely gratis. This was the first occasion ever that Dave and I spent extended exclusive face time in each other's company, and it was grand. The only thing sadly lacking was a trip to the adult pool for some gentle flossing, but we vowed to return and right this horrendous wrong at a future date.

Oh, um, sorry, Cherie is up from her little afternoon "toes up" and is mighty hungry. I will be whipping up one of my famous omelets (yes, even though it is almost 7:00 pm) so I will be right back....alright then, here I am again. Thanks for waiting.

IT'S A LOVELY LIVERMORE KINDA DAY

We were delighted to be paid a visit from Young Andrew (as opposed to Andrew Young who was the Mayor of Atlanta and a member of Congress) all the way from the desolate wasteland of Sacramento. I say wasteland because in my earlier days, I was occasionally wasted in Sacramento, hence the reference. In any case, we planned a deliriously pleasant day of a bit of dining followed by a trip to the Livermore Intergalactic Airport. Again I hear you all asking "Why?" in beautiful harmony, so I am inspired to tell you. Every Memorial Day, our fine aerodrome features a display of WW II aircraft, including two huge bombers, a B-24 and a B-17. We have never attended this event, so I put my foot down (sorry, Lucy. Are you hurt?) and insisted we go this year.


Few of you know that before I became one of the nation's most respected motoring experts, my interest was in planes from the WW II era. This was handed down from my Dad, who served in the Air Force during that conflict. He and the rest of the GI Joes (no GI Janes, but lots of local ladies, especially in Italy) in the 41st Air Service Group completed many dangerous missions back in the day. Er, actually he and the Joes didn't exactly fly airplanes, they flew desks. See, he was in charge of payroll and lemme tell you, if you f**k up some seargent's paycheck, you are totally up s**t's creek, and no paddle either. Luckily, he came home, safe and sound, at least until my Mom heard about the Italian ladies. If the poop hit the proverbial fan, it musta been before Gary and I were born, but she hadda be pissed.

OK, back to the Lovely Livermore Kinda Day. Before journeying to the airport, we chose to lunch at a perennial favorite, the First St. Alehouse. We have enjoyed sitting at a sidewalk table and enjoying a beer and some pub grub for many years when the Alehouse resided in a very small friendly space on, well, on First St, actually. When the flooring outfit next door went bust, the Alehouse took over and thereby created a new, gargantuan location. We loved the enlarged sidewalk dining area, but today we were seated inside. The very notion that we were seated after "registering" with the hostess and being given one of those flashing pagers is in itself a new concept. In the "old days" you just took an empty table and were immediately greeted by a very nice server. The more disappointing aspect, however, was the truly overwhelming number of young offspring cavorting about. These fine little tots, known in these parts as rug rats, were everywhere, most of them unfortunately in the rather claustrophobic room in which we were placed. Hey, wait a New York minute here...this is a BEER place, and it looks just like friggin' DisneyWorld in here. Worse yet, it SOUNDS like EPCOT too. The former atmosphere of Livermore beer enthusiasts and the occasional drunk has been lost, probably forever. Not a good thing.


So the aircraft were fascinating. We were amazed that guys would fly in these crude buckets of bolts, enduring noise, vibration and enemy fire on the way to drop bombs on folks. Worse yet, NO PEANUTS and one old guy said the aisle to the cans was OUTSIDE! At least they didn't charge for luggage or pillows, and there were no overhead storage bins in which your baggage may have shifted during flight and therefore would come leaping out and hit you upside your thick skull.

"I COULD HAVE BLOGGED ALL NIGHT, I COULD HAVE BLOGGED ALL NIGHT, AND STILL HAVE BLOGGED SOME MORE"

Sorry, Julie Andrews. I could, but Cheryl beckons from yonder boudoir and I must obey without question. So I will close with the eagerly-expected results from my official once-yearly predictions on yesterday's National Motorsports Day (soon to be a true world-wide holiday) events. If you Facebook (Hey, you in the back, stop looking down at your shoes. I know you are on FB!), you have seen these and I can see you are literally on the edge of your chairs in anticipation. Well, this year I am pleased to report I have achieved a .333 guessing average. I missed on the NASCAR 600 miler down in Charlotte, and who could foresee the wacky outcome of the Indy 500? I did nail it on the Monaco Grand Prix, however, for a very respectable one outta three. Hope you enjoyed it as much, if not more, than I did.

So it's off to nonnie-nooners, where I will dream up another literary gem just like this one for next time. Until then, I remain...

Bob/Irv

We Meet My Donor's Family, At Last

A MAJOR LIFE EVENT

Please excuse the long time between my previous, brief news item and the promised expansion of the discussion concerning our meeting with my donor's family. Simply, we are still attempting to fully comprehend all the ramifications, and it just may take a bit longer to fully process. So, I have brilliantly ascertained that it is not fair to you, My Readers, to continue to delay.

I recall clearly the morning of February 9, 2010. I was already well into my daily inpatient routine of French toast, checking email, and doing a bit of reading. My pre-transplant coordinator, Celia , came in the room and simply told me that today was to be the day. I was elated, and started calling with the news, starting of course with Cheryl. I recall feeling excited but surprisingly not frightened. I suppose I had been waiting for this moment for so long that it made me more hopeful than scared.

When Dr. Nancy A., my distinguished kidney surgeon, came in for a brief exam, she told me my donor was a young person. This stopped me cold in my tracks. Never once during the five long years of preparation and waiting did I consciously think about an identity for my donor. When I realized someone had died and perhaps left a grieving family, I was overwhelmed and frankly emotional in my response. Dr. A. was kind enough to pat my shoulder and assure me "It's OK". From that moment I wanted to find out about this unfortunate young man or woman.

The ensuing confusion, wondering, and misinformation have been chronicled elsewhere in past episodes. Not far into 2011 our coordinator at CTDN, Gwenn S. told us that the family was in fact ready for a meeting. Gwenn indicated that the planned date and location would be April 30 at the annual donor family recognition ceremony at Chabot College. Although I was a bit impatient, I accepted the fact. Our concentration turned to my one-year post-transplant anniversary, so we set our sights on April, National Donate Life Month.

THE DAY ARRIVES

The Thursday before the Saturday event, Gwenn asked if our family was "OK with media". Answering for all of us (Leslie, Chris, Linsey, Andy, Cheryl and I), I said "Yes" not really thinking we would be any more that part of a group photograph or general news piece. There would be, I imagined, other family/recipient introductions going on, as well as a well-organized observance of the hard decisions made by grieving families.

Upon arrival at Chabot we were asked to wait at the end of the lobby. We did not know if we were going to be shown to a private room, meet in the lobby, or be ushered into the auditorium. Gwenn showed me a page in the donor remembrance book, giving all of us the first glimpse of my donor's identity....Ruben Bernal. She then gathered us up and took us back outside the front doors where we found ourselves before a virtual crowd of people. They were all looking at me, some smiling, some crying and holding tissues to their eyes. I looked at Cheryl and she was also tearing up. In the center of Ruben's family was a woman in a white sweater, being hugged and comforted by several younger members of the group. This was, in fact, Ruben's mother, Maria.

AN AMAZING ENCOUNTER

I have many impressions, thoughts and emotions about the next moments. Many people, perhaps 25 (we were told there would be 8), immediately introducing themselves to us. They had name tags, we had none, but the recognition of names and the displayed relationship to Ruben were a blur. I saw a row at the back of large guys, several of whom were Ruben's older brothers. Suddenly we noticed after hugging and holding hands with Maria that there was a large group of other people all around us watching our story unfold. Amongst them was a TV cameraman recording the happenings. I then realized this was in fact "the media" focus, and the event was not a matter of happenstance.

My initial flush of happiness about the long-expected meeting was instantly tempered by the sense of loss still being felt by the family over a year after losing Ruben. A microphone with the NBC logo appeared to my right, being held by Mel B. from CTDN. In addition to serving as a human mic stand, Mel joined the translation corps helping us to speak and listen to Maria and Ruben's father, Ruben Sr. The camera operator asked me to be interviewed, which I did after a small microphone was affixed to my lapel. All the while I was in awe of the dreamlike situation unfolding all around us. A young man then came up and asked for yet anther interview, this one for the news group which publishes local papers in several East Bay communities. He scribbled my answers in shorthand in one of those little lined tablets you see reporters and cops using in the movies and on TV.

I found myself addressing Ruben's family, my primary message being profound gratitude for an enormous gift of life. I told them I had literally thought about them every day since my transplant. I further assured them I would be a conscientious steward of Ruben's heart and kidney, and would do everything I could to assure them I would be a grateful and worthy recipient.

Several of Ruben's buddies introduced themselves as well, describing him as "a great guy", "very cool", "the life of the party", and "very funny". They were all amazed and fascinated when Ruben announced he was registering to be an organ and tissue donor. We were all truly touched by the obvious devotion his friends had for him.

THE INTENSITY GROWS

After the entire group was shown to seats in the first two rows of the theater, the Moss/Chaw/Fluken contingent began conversing with the Bernal/Tovar family members while waiting for the official presentation to begin. I was seated behind Alfredo, Ruben's older brother. It was then I learned of the incredibly horrible circumstances of Ruben's death. He and Alfredo were in front of Alfredo's mother-in-law's house in Union City enjoying a late-night barbeque, when gunfire erupted from a passing vehicle. Both brothers were struck. Alfredo managed to drag himself to where Ruben lay, and immediately saw that it was a hopeless situation for his younger brother. Alfredo's first reaction was that he wished he could have been the one mortally injured, then he bid Ruben farewell and a good journey. This was too much for me to process, as you might imagine.

We all watched while dozens of donor families crossed the stage to receive their recognition medals, including the Bernals and Tovars. At the end, we all hugged again and Alfredo mentioned that we should keep in touch and perhaps get together at some point. All of us then departed the event, emotionally drained and struggling to sort out our feelings.

This amazing event took place over the noon hour, so a late lunch/early dinner (aka "Linner") was in order. We all agreed one of our most favored cuisines was in order, so we dined at Casa Orozco. All of us except for Chris, who later told us he was 100% worthless at work that evening after the indescribable experience we had all shared.

As we entered our house, the phone immediately rang. Cherie's sister Robin was on the line, excitedly telling us to turn on the TV to the NBC affiliate. We did so in time to see a commercial end with the reporter introducing a piece about the day's transplant donor family ceremony. We saw ourselves in a group shot, followed by images of us embracing and shaking hands with the Bernals and Tovars. Next was roughly 30 seconds of my funny-looking face, with an answer to one of the cameraman's questions. After the segment we switched to CBS and in a few moments saw a virtual repeat. Again, we were floored.

Sunday morning an article appeared in the news section of our paper entitled The Bridge Between Two Lives. Some editions had a picture of Ruben Sr. and me, others a photo of Linsey, Andy and me, both over the same article. Very soon after the newspaper and TV reports appeared, I received quite a few calls, emails and personal acknowledgements saying that folks had seen them. It all still seemed like a wonderful/tragic story happening to somebody else.

Later in the next week, Kathy at CTDN asked us if we would give telephone interviews to a writer for a group of newspapers in Fremont, Milpitas and San Jose. We did so, and learned that Maria had been interviewed prior our discussion, and had voiced satisfaction with me and my family as good recipients. Again, an incredible feeling for us.

SO, BACK TO THE TRANSPLANT TURNPIKE, ALREADY IN PROGRESS

We have all had several weeks to absorb these moments, and I will tell you that it will be a rather long while until everything is fully sorted. I am told by other recipients that it can and does take time. We look forward to further communication with the family, and joint activities in whatever context seems appropriate. We feel that in many ways our family has increased in size and variety. A very nice thing, to be sure.

Bob/Irv

PS: To see related articles and pictures, go to "Fremont family meets man who received son's donated organs" - Inside Bay Area
www.insidebayarea.com
or Google Ruben Bernal.

For Now, Words Fail Me

YET AGAIN, A LIFE-CHANGING MOMENT

The day I have been thinking about, hoping for, and pursuing tirelessly has come. Utilizing letter-writing, emailing, phoning, and outright pestering, I was united with the family of the donor of my heart and kidney. Our emotional day has been chronicled elsewhere, including Facebook, KPIX, KNTV, and several East Bay newspapers' Sunday editions. While we were told that news media would be present, we had no idea that our family-to-family event would be their main focus.

DETAILS TO FOLLOW

Please permit me to more fully process and share at a later date not only the momentous happenings on Saturday, but also some additional amazement experienced earlier today. To answer a few of the mysteries, I can say that my donor was Ruben Bernal, a 21 year-old resident of Union City. Last February, Ruben was enjoying a late-night BBQ at the home of a relative when an as-yet unknown individual or individuals opened fire from a moving vehicle. Ruben suffered grievous injuries and was taken to Eden Medical Center in Castro Valley. There he was declared brain-dead and placed on a respirator.

Ruben was a registered organ and tissue donor. He figured if the worst were to happen (which most young people think never will), he would want his organs used to save someone else. In his circle of friends, this was an unusual concept, but he had determined and done it on his own. And horribly for Ruben, his many friends, large family and fiancee, the worst did occur early on the morning of Saturday, February 6, 2010. And on Tuesday the 9th, he was taken off respiratory support and pronounced dead.

I will organize my thoughts and feelings, and share more of this truly mind-boggling story very soon. I ask you all to take just a moment to reflect on a person described to us as full of life, humor and love. It humbles me that he had to die so I could rediscover my own life, humor and love. Muchas gracias, Ruben.

Bob/Irv

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

It's April 13th...So What?

Hi everyone.....just wanted to give a brief description of why today is so important to me. Maybe some of you know of my life-long enthusiastic interest in motor racing. Over these many years, one driver/owner/constructor/all-around great guy has stood out for me. The first race I ever saw on (primitive) TV, the 1962 Daytona Continental, was won by him. And I saw his very last victory, at Sears Point in 1970, driving the race car his company built, the All American Racers Eagle. In between, he notably won the 1967 Belgian Grand Prix in an Eagle, followed a week later by a significant win (with A.J. Foyt) at the 24 Hours of Le Mans driving a Ford GT.

I am of course talking about Dan Gurney. The reason I mention all this is that today, April 13th, is Dan's 80th birthday. So allow me the opportunity to send a sincere Happy Birthday his way. Thanks for all of it, sir.

Time Shore Do Fly When Yur Havin' Fun, Don't It?

FIRST, THE TRIVIALITIES

May I suggest to those out there in Subscriber World who are nauseated by accounts of personal activities ("We don't wanna know what you had for lunch!"...an actual quote....Ouch!) that you and the horse you rode in on skip to the more relevant and scholarly events I deal with further down the blog. I would NEVER knowingly subject any reader to such unpleasantness, so perhaps many of you might be more pleased with graphic descriptions of medical procedures to which I have been subjected lately. Just look downward on this page to the BOLD HEADING to get what you truly came for. Sure, don't mention it. My pleasure.

SO ON TO THE PROMISED TRIVIALITIES

Last month our humble abode here in The Town of Spring found itself draped in a jolly tent for the purpose of exterminating every living creature that resided therein. Yes, after several years of ignoring the "swarmers" that came flying out of the windowsill, we finally succumbed to the need for fumigation. Oh, the shame. Even worse, there was a huge sign hung in front advertising Terminix, as if to scream "These people harbor dangerous insects, and shall be punished financially!" to every passing motorist.

Considering the need to virtually move completely out for three days, we were fortunate and thankful to the Senior Caples for allowing us to house sit during their gala trip to Scottsdale for Giant's spring training. So we schlepped, with Leslie's able assistance, most of our lives over across Vasco to Robin's and Pat's lovely dwelling. Staying over there was a pleasure, as was tending to the needs of the two kitties in residence. Not quite so much fun was looking after Lucy, who definitely did not enjoy being held captive upstairs in order to protect unscratched furniture and innocently by-standing fellow feline creatures.

I took my second cooking class at LifeStyle Rx, where I am the longest-running cardiac rehab patient in modern history. I understand that roughly 165 B.C., a Roman vice emperor by the name of Dicklessius Cheneyllius was involved with rehab for over 220 years, but I do hold the modern record, so there, Mr. Smartypants. At any rate, excellent and healthy dishes are prepared in the demonstration kitchen, with one of those tilted mirrors above the preparation area just like on Food Network (and the honeymoon suites up in the Poconos). Luckily, unlike the Food Network's worst representative, Paula Deen, there is hardly any butter in evidence. Now I know how to make healthy lasagna, shrimp 'n' grits, fruit cobbler, and New Orleans Bourbon bread pudding. Thank you Anne Moselle, RD, for organizing these.

A last-minute social arrangement with the Henrys resulted in an excellent evening in Downtown Martinez. Dinner at Haute Stuff was truly outstanding. This was exceeded by the intensely high-quality show we caught at Armando's. Again we saw Jeff Magidson, as we did at First Sunday, and again, when backed up by a remarkable band, he truly gets it done. Jeff, along with his wife Isabel, also perform together as Duo Gadjo, which supplied the music at Leslie's and Chris' wedding.

We were very pleased to tour the newest building at John Muir Walnut Creek Campus at the community open house recently. As we saw at Concord Campus several months ago, this magnificent part of the hospital incorporates all the latest thinking in technology, the better to achieve optimum patient healing. Virtually every room is private and has a window allowing natural light. There are several roof gardens for patient and family enjoyment, and the domed lobby with its water feature is also a place where everyone can spend emotionally healing time. There is a new kitchen as well, but since it was not on the tour I have been promised a private showing by my former associates, TBA.

If I sound like a JM ad writer, sorry, but for anyone who has spent time either incarcerated or visiting a hospital (and I have), this is a major eye-opener. One of the main guys who made this happen, CEO Ken Anderson, retired on March 31, and we saw him at the event but were unable to speak with him. I spent many happy hours helping to provide meals to many meetings and functions Ken attended, and he was always appreciative of all of our efforts. Quite a fine leader and a gentleman, to be sure.

Later the same day we made our second trip to Napa to procure a site for Linsey's and Andy's rehearsal dinner. Cheryl, Andy and I were successful at Filippi's, where we may have over-sampled just a wee bit. However, all three of us gathered it in nicely, and Cheryl and I are proud to have both dropped a coupla pounds last week. Hoo hah.

OK, NOW FOR THE SERIOUS STUFF

In a medical sense, it has been only so-so, to be honest. An ultrasound indicated a blockage in the right upper femoral artery, although I have had no symptoms. The vascular surgeon, Dr. Eichler (who expertly did my leg bypass several years ago) strongly suggested an angiogram, with possible ballooning and stenting of the affected area. I will be admitted on April 17th, hopefully getting the procedure done early Monday, and returning to Ciudad de Liver on Tuesday. The best-layed plans and all that.... At the very least we were able to leave UCSF that day in time to join Suzy and Greg at Gather in Berkeley. Here, the largely-vegetarian menu features "stinging nettles" amongst other Local, Sustainable, Organic, Expensively Farm-raised and altogether Groovy items. I dunno, it must be my ignorance, but I am loathe to put anything "stinging" in my mouth. I got enough problems, y'know?

Meanwhile the spinal stenosis (or whatever the Hell it is) is so painful in my lower back that I have forgotten all the weakness and discomfort in my left leg ever since Thanksgiving. Bummer for me, the Spine Center doc was away, so my March 17th appointment was rescheduled for April 14th. No hurry at the UCSF Spine Center, which obviously subscribes to the same "later, mon" attitude I found in Urology. Yeah, Urology....what great memories. Perfect for those voyeurs out there who prefer frightening accounts of medical discomfiture over descriptions of happy, inspirational times (like my lunches). I hate to disappoint, but I didn't even have to reveal my goodies during the last visit, so I guess some of you will have to wait until the next savage medical episode to get their jollies. So terribly sorry.

ON TO TRANSPLANT ACTIVITIES

I was very interested in participating in an education session, wherein representatives of CTDN address high school students about the facts of organ donation. I got my chance recently at College Park HS in Pleasant Hill. Three of us, all recipients, spoke to three periods of Physiology classes, not only providing important information but giving two different teachers a welcome hour off. Each of us described our transplant experience, to which each class responded with sincere applause. We showed a new video featuring words and pictures of actual organ recipients and donor families. This is a tool to inform students to assist them and their parents in making their donation decisions, as many become new drivers. There is currently a bill before the state legislature to require information about organ and tissue donation in high school health classes, which is a most worthy idea.

Cheryl and I will be participating in more CTDN events during this, National Donate Life Month. Of course the culmination of these vital activities will be the annual donor recognition ceremony at which we will meet the family of my donor. So, a very important and emotional month is ahead for us. And if you would be so kind, do consider promoting awareness of the need for donor registration at any opportunity you deem appropriate. The 110,000 or so people waiting for transplants in the US, and Yours Truly, would appreciate it.

And on that hopeful note, I bid you adieu.

Bob/Irv

Donor Family Meeting News

To briefly update our upcoming introduction to my donor family, it will take place Saturday, April 30 at noon. The location will be Chabot College in Hayward. We have been encouraged to include Leslie, Chris, Linsey and Andy. I asked the coordinator if the family could bring a picture of my donor for us to display here at home. The feedback was that they were very touched by the request, and would be happy to supply a photo. The family were reported to be excited and somewhat nervous, just as we are. We are very enthusiastically looking forward to this incredible event.

Bob/Irv

Doin' the Parnassus Polka

CRANK UP YOUR ACCORDIONS, AND HERE WE GO!

I shoulda known that when the transplant folks add on appointments to existing clinic visits, it means trouble. Well, I did know it this time, and even communicated it to Cheryl as we scooted blithely across a lightly-occupied Bay Bridge. The parking guy recognized us, and clinic went well, the only departure being Dr. McGlothlin's concern about my lungs, for some reason. She specified an X-ray, and at this point the day went directly into the pooper, so to speak.

An echo cardiogram of my heart had already been added to the day's festivities, and since both X-ray and echo were on the third floor of the hospital, it was indicated that we could "just" go over there and do both tests. As many may already know, I despise "ya just" as an instruction of how to do anything. Anyone who has been in a hardware store with me has heard this suggestion when I ask the old fart in the orange vest how to do something. "Well, ya just screw this here thingie into this other thingie...." he tells me, and immediately I know I am in serious trouble. I usually have to return to Lowe's/Home Depot/ Orchard Supply/Wherever to get another thingie and ask the young kid with his pants falling off how to do it. "Dude, ya just..." and on it goes.

We had to hustle, but we arrived on the third floor for our 1:00 appointment at 12:59. After a quick X-ray, we returned to the waiting room to await the call for the echo, as instructed by the somewhat-disinterested person at the imaging reception desk. We waited, and then we waited some more. Cherie read her book, and so did I until I started to get sleepy. About 1:45 Cherie inquired of a different staffer what the deal was. She said " Oh, you have to go to the echo cardiogram desk to check in". We rushed there to be greeted by the news that we were classified as "no-shows" and cast unceremoniously into outer darkness for our evil transgression.

We were grudgingly "squeezed in", but not until 4:00 pm. We were advised to got to the (newly remodeled) cafeteria and come back in an hour. Upon our return, I was called almost immediately and completed the test. I watched my heart working away on the computer screen while the technician described everything to a nursing student who was observing the procedure. All his comments sounded very positive, even though I didn't comprehend much of it. But he assured me it was "all good" as Andy would say.

At the end of this chapter, the echo people told us to see the transplant coordinator back across Parnassus. There, we were informed in no uncertain terms that because we were an hour late for the echo, we had been reported to the supervisor. This generated an official complaint and incident report indicting the transplant department for causing this horrible situation. Despite our explanation, we learned that the incident report (an instant attention-getter in many anal-retentive organizations) would have to be addressed, and probably would create the need for a policy change of some sort. It was suggested that the change would be an indication on any appointment notification to a patient to "not be late". Duh. Maybe there should be a simultaneous notification to the department staff to "not be a disinterested dumbshit". I certainly dunno.

We got out in time for a monstrous traffic jam as described on the radio, so we decided to dine in The City before heading East. Cheryl suggested Hayes Street Grill, to which I have never been. We had an outstanding dinner, certainly not inexpensive but truly worth it. And so another performance of the Parnassus Polka thankfully ended, with no fatalities but some serious psychological injuries.

OK, ENOUGH ALREADY OF THAT CRAP

We had a very nice visit with our niece Jennifer Moss, all the way from Boca Raton, FL. Unable to provide the hoped-for BBQ due to weather conditions, we opted for an indoor event featuring an Asian theme. We were happy to observe not only the visit, but also give a hearty family salute to Chinese New Year.

I staffed a California Transplant Donor Network information opportunity, a blood drive taking place on a residential street in San Ramon. There were two huge bloodmobiles from Stanford, and I learned that the hosts were a transplant family. I was warmly greeted by Tim and Dianna Murphy, and introduced to young Kevin. Kevin just observed two years out on a heart transplant received at Stanford, done only two days after he was diagnosed with a serious congenital heart condition that had never been noticed before. Now 14, Kevin returned to shooting baskets after meeting me. He participates in several sports, and just kind of gets along as a normal kid. As far as donor information goes, we had minimal success. Since virtually everyone giving blood were personal friends of the Murphys, they were all registered as donors and were knowledgeable about transplantation. It was, however, a privilege to meet Tim and Dianna, who were great transplant parents and exceedingly gracious to me.

Th-Th-Th That's All folks!

Bob /Irv

We Interrupt This Program for a Transplant Trib Nooz Flash

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.

"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

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.

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

But, On the Other Hand......

WE MOVE BACK TO THE POSITIVE SIDE

I am sure all of you Dear Readers were hungering for a more cheerful post after the last one. And so, allow me to share a few happy experiences that should be a positive counterpoint for all of us. This is not to dismiss the sad aspects of the month, but to describe incidents that reflect real life, which can be happy or sad.

NEW YEAR'S DAY STARTS RIGHT

We excitedly arose to catch the Rose Parade in hopes of seeing the Donate Life float early without having to endure too many high school bands, equestrian units, and insurance company-sponsored floats. Unfortunately, we did see the beginning featuring this year's Grand Marshall, Paula Deen. She waved to the crowd while flinging sticks of butter and five-pound bags of sugar to the adoring masses. Before too long, the float we were waiting for "floated" by. It was awesome, carrying transplant recipients and donor families. Many carried pictures of donors, and the float also displayed donor faces crafted of flowers. Very impressive, and winner of the Theme Award for best interpretation of this year's theme, Building Dreams, Friendships & Memories.
.

One of the riders on the float was a 13 year-old named Michael Carraway. Three years ago he received a liver from a young motorcycle crash victim in L.A. After his transplant Mikey wanted to repay his gift by feeding the homeless in East Oakland, a project he has continued ever since. He met his donor family in Pasadena. We were able to meet him and his grandmother at a CTDN gathering at the Oakland office. He is quite remarkable, having experienced a lot of media attention (including autograph hunters!) at the Rose Parade.

We also met Pastor Shaq who is a CTDN Ambassador in East Oakland. He makes himself available to appear at the hospital when a potential donor situation exists. He meets with the family, prays with them, and gently encourages them to approve donation. There is a very small percentage of donor registration in the African-American community, and a rather strong resistance to the idea as well. Additionally, Pastor Shaq provides transplant information sessions in classrooms at McClymonds High, where it sounds like kids who are not texting or sleeping are loading their handguns. Pretty inspiring couple of guys.

WE'RE NOT HUNG OVER, BUT EVERYONE LOVES A HANGOVER PARTY

This year I was physically and mentally prepared to attend the Annual Hangover Party on NY's Day at the Leslie and Chris Chaw residence in Berzerkely. I have been an inconsistent attendee due to either inability to climb stairs or being a guest on 10 Long. So it was fearlessly and without trepidation that we made our way to Mathews St. to celebrate the arrival of 2011. And it was MOST enjoyable. We had barely dropped our stuff in the kitchen when Leslie's pal Elspeth thrust a warm piece of her incredible focaccia at me. It was particularly delightful to see several of Leslie's "old" gang, like Sooz,
Barbara M.(with BF Mitch), and "My Other Sweetie" Erica (and husband Mark). All in all, great food, a rousing game of Apples to Apples and a fine array of folks attending. Oh, yeah, nice to see my son-in-law too, I guess.

ANOTHER VIEWPOINT

I neglected to make our reservations to see the collection of paintings from the Musee d'Orsay, Van Gogh, Gaugin,and Cezanne, appearing at the DeYoung Museum in GG Park. I did finally secure our spots for the afternoon of the last day of the exhibit. Before we entered, we took a ride up to the top of the nine-story tower. This tall black structure is plainly visible from the 10th floor solarium of UCSF, and, if you're lucky, from several patient rooms as well. Many were the times Cheryl and I looked out at that tower as a symbol of where we would rather be instead of where we were.

While I ran around checking the views, Cheryl was looking up at the hospital. I noticed she was,uh,um, getting a bit verklempt as we say in Yiddish. She was somewhat overcome with the fact that we had made it through everything to be able to enjoy the sights from a new, better, healthier angle. It was quite a moment. After seeing the artwork, we sat in front of the DeYoung and enjoyed some twilight and a huge full moon. We had an enjoyable outdoor dinner at Belden Place, winding up a remarkable trip to the City. For a rare moment, we were close to UCSF but not needing any sort of visit. Great feeling.

LUNCH WITH THE GUYS

Due to some intense and relentless feats of scheduling, I was very happy to scoot out to Pleasant Hill to join my old Muir buddies, Ken and Mike, for a bite of lunch at Jack's. While the meal was "just OK", the company was outstanding. We talked about sports (including a small bit of F1), football, kids, cars and transplantation. It has been a while since we last socialized, and it was most enjoyable. Driving there in the S2000 was icing on the proverbial cake.

OH, AND SPEAKING OF CAKE....

To properly mark my dear Cheryl's 60th BD, the kids and I arranged a celebratory buffet luncheon at one of our favorites, Taheri's Restaurant in Walnut Creek. Due to the craziness at her actual birthday, December 23, we had the gathering in January to insure easier attendance. Sean Taheri did his normal exceptional job, in large part due to his well-trained and gracious staff. Great food and beverages were enjoyed by all, we lucked into lovely weather, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves despite my commentary. No birthday party is complete without the cake (see above), and in this case it was particularly special. Once again, Leslie's friend Elspeth offered her considerable baking talents and provided a lemon-filled cake that was quite delicious. Leslie herself amazed the crowd with her flower arrangements, and Andy's assistance on the Momma posters was much appreciated. And thanks to Allen Chaw for the photography!

AND SOME MOVIE VIEWING, TOO

We enjoy our little village of Liverless, and never more than last evening. Starting with a casual dinner outside at the First Street Alehouse (Pyramid Apricot Ale!!), we headed to the Vine to catch Burlesque. There was a line at the snack bar, as the Vine serves beer, wine and rather fine food from the Zephyr right next door. There are small tables in the lobby and in the theaters, making for a very unusual and pleasant movie experience.

As for the film, it too was pleasant. Totally incredible dancing and singing, great-looking young folks dressed scantily, and a totally predictable and shopworn plot. Not a problem; how can you go wrong with Christina Aguilara and the surgically ageless Cher. It seemed to me like a movie version of Glee, with illogical but outstanding music and dance performances separated by a story of sorts. Which I adore. Fun for us.

So, as I have indicated earlier, life does in fact go on despite the occasional and sometimes disturbing potholes in that ol' Turnpike. We never cease to be amazed and thankful for what we have. Which is how it should be.

Bob/Irv

Rough Ride on the Transplant Turnpike

IT'S NOT ALL SWEETNESS AND LIGHT

Remembering my youth once again, it was always a treat to roll through the toll booth and enter the Pennsylvania Turnpike. It meant we were going someplace fun and different for a vacation, and it was unlike the usual roads we travelled in and around Pittsburgh. And boy, it was smooth, gently curving through pretty wooded PA countryside with no billboards, fast food outlets, or ugly roadside buildings. And the best thing were the occasional travel plazas with gas and Howard Johnson's. HoJo's were the sole provider of food an the Turnpike, and being Mosses, it was all about the food wherever we went.

But on the SuperSlab known as the Transplant Turnpike, between the gentle curves and Howard Johnson's there are potholes, bumps, loose gravel and lots of construction delays. No such thing out there as a "Survey Party" either. Of course even when it says that on my favorite freeway, I have yet to see a party in progress, only a guy in an orange vest looking through a telescope at some other guy in an orange vest holding a stick. What the Hell kinda party is that, anyway?

But I digress. Recent miles rolled up on the TT have been anything but pleasant. So let the lament commence.

NICE BUT SAD LUNCH DATE

After my exhilarating Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) session at UCSF/Mission Bay, we had arranged to join our friend Ena for lunch before exiting The City. We met Ena and her husband Om about two years ago at the UCSF Heart and Lung Transplant Support Group. Some of you may recall that when the speaker recognized Om, she exclaimed "Oh, you're the guy with the Ferrari!" We immediately gravitated to them and discovered Om was a recent heart/kidney recipient, and did in fact own a very low-mileage 1989 Ferrari Testarossa. We were invited to their block party that summer, where we met some very nice neighbors. I was also allowed to sit at the wheel of the TR after Om fired it up, and the noise and exhaust blast were intoxicating.

When I was admitted for better or worse to 10 Long last January, I called Om and got his voicemail. I did not hear anything for quite a while, until Ena called. She had been picking up messages on Om's cell phone, and called to tell me Om had died just after Christmas, 2009. He had started to feel badly, with a very sore stomach, nausea, and labored breathing. Ena, who was very convincing in her encouragement of us, was unable to convince him to go to Emergency. After three days of this, she went in to check on him first thing in the morning and found he had expired during the night.

We have kept in touch with her, and offered to take her to lunch at an Indian restaurant, Chaat Cafe, across the street from Moscone, after the MRI. Excellent food, by the way; Ena's in-laws are from India and they love this place. Anyhow, she is still having a hard time even now, and had a rough go of it straightening everything out after Om's death. Great to see her, very good food, but it was hard to come away feeling too happy as we hit the bridge.

BUT BY THE END OF THE WEEK, THE NEWS DID NOT IMPROVE

Several months ago I was asked by our pre-transplant coordinator to visit a patient, David, waiting for a heart and kidney on 10 CCU. We of course did so, and found him hesitant and scared about the procedure. Additionally, he had come into UCSF in fairly bad condition, and all of this was a bit hard for him to handle. We spoke with him, gave him some encouragement, and subsequently visited several more times. He seemed to get better, being removed from oxygen and his feeding tube. I dropped over when I was admitted in October, and he had just been told organs were available for transplantation that very day!

Unfortunately, he had an infection and had to be taken off the list for a while. He seemed to decline a bit, and certainly his chances took a steep dive when the one and only heart transplant surgeon, our very own Dr. Hoopes, left for Kentucky with no replacement named. I called at Thanksgiving from Capitola, and not much had changed. He sounded decidedly despondent.

I called again two weeks ago and was told he had been transferred to California Pacific. When I phoned him there, the best the nurse could do was put the receiver up to his ear. I could not hear anything on the line, so I just said my thing, wished him the best, and said we would come by CPMC for a visit. I asked a good friend works there to check in on him for us. She reported she could not locate him. I did not feel very optimistic.

Last Friday, I was able to ascertain from anonymous sources that in fact, David did die the day after I tried to have a conversation with him. Needless to say this was not what we wanted to hear. Cheryl and I both saw David in CCU at UCSF, and I was able to meet his daughter who was to be his caregiver after the transplant. I gave her all our contact info, and said were ready to assist in any way we could. It just wasn't meant to happen for David, however.

AND THE HITS JUST KEEP COMIN'

Though they pale compared to the news noted above, I had a bit of bother that week as well. Friday, I got the results of both my bone density study and the MRI. The verdicts are osteoporosis, degenerative disc disease, and some level of spinal stenosis. These are the causes of my chronic back and leg pain. Of course, suddenly two weeks ago, I stopped limping, felt virtually pain-free, and happily abandoned my cane. So the truth, in this case, hurt more than the ailments.

Initially, the treatment plan is more calcium citrate and weight-bearing exercise for the osteoporosis part. An appointment with a spinal neurologist at UCSF will be arranged to address the back bothers. Once again, compared to other, more frightening possibilities, this is just a mild swerve on the ol' Turnpike.

You may assume that all is pain and fear here at Transplant Tribune World Headquarters, but you would be wrong (again!). In fact we have had a pretty good January. To learn the final outcome of what looks to have been a s****y week, though, you will just have to keep an eye out for our next issue. So for now, I remain simply....

Bob/Irv

I Almost Had a Psychic Girlfriend Once, But She Left Me Before We Met

OK, IT'S A LIE

Actually it's the winner in this year's Lying Contest or some nonsense like that. Thankfully, Cheryl Cook was fortunately (for me) not a psychic, or she would have run, quickly, in the other direction that fateful day in the Dining Commons. Not that I was repulsive or anything (I hope) , but she woulda foreseen years of diabetes, kidney failure, heart failure and hissy fits in her (our) future. But, on the other hand, she woulda seen two extraordinary kids with extraordinary partners, a load of incredible friends, an actual vacation or two, and gobs of really cool cars. Not that anyone in the Cook family (especially Robin) gave a damn about cars (Bill did like Thunderbirds though) OR me, but eventually Cheryl came around to my odd way of thinking automotively. Which meant going into unreasonable debt purchasing and servicing some really stoopid cars. But the great memories still remain, especially for ol' Wolfgang the Porsche Mechanic who was able to retire to the Bahamas on what we spent over there.

WELL, NOW THAT I HAVE THAT OFF MY CHEST...

It is currently popular to review all kinds of things relating to this past year, and as everyone knows by now, I wanna be popular, so I am, as we speak, dreaming up a list of my own. So once again, please keep your hands, arms, and any other unspecified appendages inside the vehicle, take small children firmly by the hand, and LET'S GO!

January: John Muir/Concord for dialysis graft repair, then admitted. Out one day, back in UCSF that night. This time to stay until the transplant happens.

February: The 9th is The Big Day of the Year; Transplant Time is here! We have to miss Elton and Billy but are glad Jen and Paul enjoy our tickets. Discharged from the hospital to 2000 Post. Leslie's birthday..I spend Super Bowl Sunday in the ER with leaky wounds, but could give a s**t less about football. I did enjoy the Daytona 500 in CCU, however.

March: Convalescing at 2000 Post, admitted on the 1st and the 10th, cannot remember why. Leaking wounds, maybe?

April: Home from 2000 Post. Big family BBQ, featuring David, Jennifer and Diana from FL. Eagles at HP Pavilion; AWESOME!

May: Our anniversary. Dash to ED at UC, turns out to be a kidney infection; admitted. Same later in the month, discharged just in time for The Henry 150 celebrating Mom's 89th and Dan's 61st birthdays. Indy 500 and GP of Monaco are other highlights.

June: Accidentally, we are invited to the California Transplant Donor Network picnic, which is phenomenal. So we join up! We make another attempt at visiting Aunt Bessie in Long Beach, and this time, no hospitals!

July: We staff our first CTDN event at Eden Hospital. Another kidney problem takes us to the ED and subsequent admission. Out in time for The Big Schnurr BBQ, but back to UC the same night with more kidney adventures. I write a letter to my donor's family.

August: Visit from Kelly, Oscar and the Girls all the way from Spain. We go to the TRIO picnic for the first time. And, our first race since the transplant, the Monterey Motorsports Reunion. We attend with the Frateses and Chaws, and have a ball. Visit to MOMA and unreal dinner at the Slanted Door courtesy Dan and Carol. We rock out to ZZ Top at Wente after celebrating my (and Kelly D.'s) birthday(s).

September: We take in the show at Armando's for the first time, and do another CTDN info table in Martinez.

October: Everyone celebrates Andy's 30th BD. CTDN training in Walnut Creek, and then a donor info event in Concord. Our first aborted vacation plan, a Tauck Tour of the Southwest. We substitute a short trip to Tahoe in the S2000, followed by a biopsy and three days on 9 Long at UCSF for kidney rejection. But we do get to go to a rockin' wedding, that of Elliott and Alicia Hughes. Our Halloween outfits elicit gales of laughter from all three people shopping at 11:00 pm in Safeway. We graciously receive almost five "kids" at the door asking for candy.

November: Gala tour of Muir/Concord's new ER and Heart Institute. Little did we know that later in the month, I would be a client of the same ER. Our second aborted vacation as I am not permitted to join Cheryl in Las Vegas and visit my old roomie, Larry "Flash". Thanksgiving in Capitola is glorious, but missing the Auto Show is not (leg problem).

December: We observe Chanukah at the community Menorah-lighting in San Ramon. Alex and Rita visit The Gang with an extraordinary dinner at JP and Cora's. We are literally blown away by Isa Stenzel Byrnes and the bagpipe and drum corps. Our first TRIO dinner as a recipient! We ride the Sunol-Niles Holiday Train. Another interfaith choir recital at the Mormon church ,thanks to our good friend Charlotte. The Cardiac Rehab annual luncheon is followed by a repeat visit to Armando's. Cheryl turns 60!! A truly outstanding Christmas at the P. & R. Caples'. I pen a Holiday letter to my donor family. Another CTDN opportunity, this time in Santa Cruz. New Year's Eve spent quietly with Dan and Carol, dining at Esin. What a month, and what a finish to a memorable year.....

January 1, 2011: We start off the year big-time with the Hangover Party at the Chaw's in Berzerkely....fun!

Of course I do not want to fail to mention great Dinners with the Gang, innumerable doctor appointments and medical tests, more than plenty hospital admissions and visits, great dinners with friends, grand reacquainting with my beloved S2000, delight with our new Honda Fit, and the overriding euphoria of just being around this year.

Thanks to everyone, far and wide, for quite a 2010. And the forecast for 2011? Sunny, clear and mild....can't wait.

Bob/Irv