TheBanyanTree: Transplant Journal 6/8/04

[Jim Miller]

Friends,

Several times, I've attempted to begin a journal documenting the
experiences of my adventure to a heart transplant. Life and all the junk
that can create obstacles has managed to waylay my good intentions. I
frequently relate stories and someone tells me; you should write a book.
Linda's assistant was here with her husband Sunday. They insisted that a
journal of my experiences could benefit the next person. And today, she
has escalated the pressure. What's a guy to do? I have loaded Journal
software on my website, however, it's very basic and needs customized
before I'll invite the public. You would think that, I'd have plenty of
time to do that. Where does the time go?

Today is day 18. Looking forward, it feels like the first day of
infinity. I can reason that the end of the wait will come in a time
frame that is brief in retrospect. I need to have answers. Concentrating
on the destination/goal is more complex for me when I can't know the
route.

Because I'm less the artist and more the engineer, logic allows me to
maintain balance. Linda is not so fortunate. Her roll in life is to
worry about tomorrow. It's a major stress generator. When I tell others
how Linda copes with our circumstances; Her aging parents anger and
rapidly approaching dependence; Her business and the people that depend
on her, and now regular visits to my Mother, who recognizes but mostly
communicates in gibberish and incomplete thoughts; they are amazed at
her substance and strength. I know the super-woman, but I'm also the
place where she takes off the cape and crashes. Human resilience is
remarkable.

I'm settled into a routine that allows time for most things I need to
accomplish. This is frequently interrupted by the visitors who linger. I
understand the good intentions and appreciate their thoughtfulness. I'd
like to believe my incredible charm is what attracts and holds them.
Maybe it is; even the nurses seem to stay longer or drop by to chat a
moment. Apparently, I'm becoming delusional with boredom. Deacon Dan is
on the payroll, but I still think he likes me.

Yesterday was the first day that I've had any feeling of boredom. It
wasn't in any way repressive, just a sense that work could wait. I have
books of poetry and politics. I have a book by Ernest Hemmingway that I
want to read. There are many more in the bookcases at home for Linda to
bring when I'm ready to rotate these. Yesterday evening I read Louis
L'Amour (gift from and friend) and watched Ocean's Eleven on DVD. The
boredom has left today, and I suspect yesterday's mild malaise was
fueled by a lack of sleep Sunday night.

As one day passes into the next, punctuated by a renewed round of
repetition, I'm trying to find bits and pieces that a reader may find
interesting. I have occasion to interact with a large number of people
each day. Every few days the faces repeat. I'm beginning to know most of
them by name. A few slow briefly and I'm able to garner small degrees of
insight into the individual. The most familiar people are the RNs, NACs
and monitor techs. These rotate every eight hours but often don't repeat
for several days. I see several different IV therapy nurses who inspect
or redress my PICC. There are two or three different house keeper a
week. I've seen two different dieticians so far. I only have lab draws
twice a week, but have seen at least six different techs. (some are
good, but watch out for the others - two dry stabs before a gusher this
morning) I've known most of the transplant people for a long time,
however, this unit sees most of the mechanical assist heart patients and
I'm getting better acquainted with the VAD specialist. I mention this
because there is opportunity for character study. As I think about it, I
find the task daunting. I've never analyzed people like that before. I
meet them; judge them for a potential "friend", "acquaintance",
"necessary interaction", or "don't talk to me again", relationship. I'm
in awe of Woofie's skill at assigning and describing artistic character
to her family, friends and mates. I'm thinking of picking out one person
to start, and see if I can develop the concept.

Let me finish this entry by telling you what happened during day four.
While I'd like to believe that I'm next in line for a heart, I know that
others at the same status level have been waiting longer. Reality
dictates that several others will likely come and go while I stand by.

About noon Tuesday, I see Larry and his wife heading up the hallway.
He's pushing his buddy; a cart carrying the life supporting VAD pump.
I've met Larry and his wife. We're not friends, but we're joined in a
unique bond most won't understand. A lot of things could bring Larry
into the hospital. I'm curious. Within minutes I see a flurry of
activity down the hall. Because of privacy regs, I'm not told anything,
but you can sense a rising level of excitement. Three VAD techs arrive;
nearly simultaneously. Within 15 minutes, surgeon number one shows,
followed in five minutes by surgeon two. I no longer have to wonder what
is going on. Larry's room is so full; I have to wait to talk to him.
It's easy to see that the team lives for this. At 4:30 pm I give Larry
the thumbs up as the gurney is wheeled past my room; destination OR. I'm
surprised to find that my nerves are raw. I'm fully invested
emotionally. I've talked to the people and seen the scared, but I'm
impacted by the realization that this thing really happens.

Most hearts are not matched locally. This requires one surgeon to travel
to the donor's location and harvest the organ. I'm told that the heart
is the last organ removed. There is a relatively narrow window of time
that the organ remains viable. 

The absolute condition of an organ is not known until it is physically
examined. Extensive screening is done before an organ is offered for
transplant. Unfortunately not every organ meets the high standards
required for successful transplant.

A woke at 4 am when Mike, my nurse came in the room to check my IV. I
asked him if there was any word yet on Larry's surgery. He
matter-of-fact stated that it was a no-go. Larry was fully prepped and
initial anesthesia administered when the call came that the heart was
damaged and unacceptable. Maybe next time Larry.

To be continued . . . . . . . . . .