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Los Angeles, California
I am 47 and thriving in Southern California. One day at a time.
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Wednesday, June 22, 2011

shattered

so here we go...
without literary swirls or pearls of transcendent magic...

for i am speechless. my tongue is numb, my brain is fried and my heart has been flattened by the recent turn of events.
today, kevin and i arrived at cedars-sinai at 7:50 am. i checked in, and had my blood drawn around 08:30 am. then we scurried over, like squirrels frantic for their acorn fix, over to the mark taper imaging center. i was scheduled to undergo a renal vascular ultrasound which shows pictures of veins and arteries, @ 09:00 am.
and so we met francis. a more than amiable woman who ooohed and and ahhhed over the blood flow my newly donated kidney projected upon her screen, as she gelled her way to information. despite my desperation to break out into tears of joy, my gut clung to a deeper instinct that something was askew...
we walked back over to the transplant clinic, and met with dr. k.; my favorite attending physician. high on my list simply because of his attentiveness and cautious behavior; but nothing could be resolutely determined until my blood results came back...
yes, we walked on. over to the "ray charles cafeteria" for some lunch, and away from the stress that subtly chokes one, deceivingly, like a sleeping bag or a hermes scarf...
and then it was time to see my physician crush. 74 year-old dr. dauer whom i have worked with for 15 years and whom i adore. when he inspected my kidney, the first thing he said was that it looked swollen. and we agreed. this was not sigourney weaver's "alien", by any stretch, but there was nothing normal-looking about this transplanted kidney...
not good.

and so i made an appointment to see a urologist. to determine whether or not my kidney is retaining fluid...
minutes after arriving home, i received a call from the transplant clinic...

my creatinine had spiked from from 1.3 to 1.6. it has travelled, since day 1, from 0.9 to 1.6. i am no longer in a "normal" range (0.5-1.4). as i quivered internally, my post-transplant co-coordinator's words echoed in my ears..."you need to have a biopsy".

my heart sunk faster than charlie sheen's career...

a biopsy is no small event. a needle the size of a javelin is inserted into the organ, and there is a strong chance this procedure can cause rejection...then a pathologist (tissue md) determines what the primary issues are. to say i am scared would be a gross understatement. i am terrified. completely.

after my biopsy i will be monitored overnight at cedars and as they so casually amended, if i "reject", i will be in the hospital for 3 nights. at the very least.

no, no, no, no, no...

this is not what i pictured.

this was not my hope, my wish, my dream...
this is not fair...ah well, who said life is fair?

2 comments:

  1. I love you so much Auntie Hen and i hope you get well very soon so when we arrive in LA we can have an awesome time together I love you so much see ya soon
    Tyler

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  2. My friend, Karen, Stacie's Mom, had just alerted me to your lastest blog entry, so I raced my fingers over the keys to find out the latest news.

    No,no,no, no, no, noooooo, is right! My mind doesn't want to wrap itself around the stuff that's happening after all you have been through in your fight for life. You have been looking so much better in your FB profile photos. Glimmering, irridescent...

    I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I'll be thinking of you, and visualising that you don't 'reject' no matter what, and that somehow, miraculously, this situations turns around. Yes, mildly cynical me is prepared to believe in a miracle, because this time, definitely this time, I just want to so bad.

    Holding you in my heart, Mani

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