Jumping Through Hoops

The transplant team has run out of hoops for me to jump through. The last hurdle was a colonoscopy. Given my age, they required one – and, you can't blame me, I've been avoiding it because who really wants to go through that prep? Well, they decided the most expeditious route to completing the test would be to do it as an inpatient; and since I needed to remove a few pounds of fluid, one last hospital admission was advised.

When I arrived on 6C, it was like old home week. My angels of mercy got to work to move me into a private room ASAP (I love these ladies). I started the prep on schedule and basically spent the night in the bathroom. Friday's test itself was uneventful and I was deemed clean with no hurdles to being listed for transplant. Finally.

Dr. H. stopped by that afternoon with the official good news: I would be listed on Monday with a reasonably high allocation score: about 45. You are not on the list unless your score is 30, and 45 is a high, but healthy allocation score. I'm not so sick that I won't have the strength for a transplant, but I'm sick enough to say survival for more than a few more months is doubtful.

We talked a bit about what I should expect after transplant. I am mentally prepared to have a feeding tube for 3 -4 weeks post transplant. This is a safeguard that I won't have any reflux into my nice new lungs. They do it for about 20 - 30 percent of the surgical cases.

After transplant, my diet will change. I won't be able to drink alcohol – no big loss, although I really do love my interesting red wines. Cheeses - no Brie, Feta, Caembert, Blue, or Gorgonzola. No cold deli sandwiches. No sushi, hard-cured salami, no lox and no miso products. Nothing I can't live without.

The trouble with teaching hospitals.

Where do I begin. The fellows are arrogant and think they know everything. The new residents on a cardiac rotation are even worse.  I've learned to say no fellows in the cath lab – This after a fellow made 5 attempts to enter my vein on the right side and 1 failed attempt on the left side, before the attending took over. During my angioplasty, they went through my wrist which is a more complicated way to enter the artery. I remember the fellow annoyingly attempting to jam the catheter through my artery before the attending finally took over and saying it shouldn't be that difficult. I try to be cooperative, afterall, the doctors have to learn somewhere. But there is a limit to my patience.

Residents try to treat me and I'm a very complicated case. I've had to learn to say no to their recommendations for treatment. Case in point: This last admission, they wanted to put me on a Bumex drip to get rid of some of the fluid I'm carrying around. You can read about my experience with Bumex here. My response: "Just shoot me now." It was then decided that a lasix IV with a bolus dose would work just as well, and cause less pain. Today, they came to get blood draws and refused to use my 2nd lumen. I sent them away and said "That's the only way you are getting blood from me." It's kind of scary to think that I know more than most of my care givers about what I need and do not need; but I'm glad I have the confidence to speak my mind and that the attending physicians usually listen to what I have to say.