04.12.11

a mouth full

Boy oh boy… still reeling – as I am sure you all are – from all of last month’s revelry over (no, not March Madness) National Kidney Month!

Of course you know that no  kidney transplant would be complete without the concomitant twice daily dose of pharmaceuticals.  Mmmm… immunosuppressants… almost like ice cream with sprinkles.  Am I sensing a certain jealously amongst the readership??

On the timeline of medical history, renal transplants are a very recent achievement.  Scientific research and documented procedures were just beginning to be used for this procedure near the start of the twentieth century, and success was meager (short lived) even with the animal “volunteers”.  Not until 1954 was the first truly successful kidney transplant completed between two identical twin brothers in a Boston hospital. The brother’s identical tissue match helped eliminate the rejection that would normally occur by introducing non-matching tissues. This became the great hurdle for genuine long-term success with kidney transplants: rejection due to tissue mismatch. By the 1980′s great strides had been made in the development of anti-rejection drugs (immunosuppressants).  These medicines, along with the continual improvement in transplant procedures have greatly improved the success rate of kidney transplants.  For which I am forever thankful.

A few minutes each weekend are now dedicated to organizing my little box of pharmaceuticals for the week ahead. A far cry better than organizing my schedule to accommodate three times weekly dialysis.  One more thing for which to give thanks.

Each of the two anti-rejection drugs must be taken on schedule morning and night.  And while there are only two of them, the correct dose requires several pills of each drug along with some vitamins and an anti-viral medicine.  Colorful and a bit daunting.

Early on I secured a wristwatch with an alarm to remind me to take this medicine at the appropriate hour. Unfortunately the watch chime is not unlike the unceasing ring in my ears (another bonus from this whole experience).  It is not uncommon to have my watch beeping away at 8am or 8pm while I carry on in my natural state of blissful ignorance.  And receiving subtle reminders (nudges, stares and “Ahhh-hem”!) from family and coworkers that my dopey alarm is annoying them.  Rumors have been floated that they may fit me with a canine shock collar.

8am and 8pm don’t always arrive at the most opportune times… work, church, concerts, meetings… but I usually remember to silence my watch alarm or sometimes not.  I remembered to silence it last Friday night at the Gammage Center while we heard the ASU Symphony Orchestra and Choir.   At the intermission I nimbly tripped past half a row of concert-goers to find a water source.  I found a pair of drinking fountains near the hall entrance, poured my little packet of about nine brilliantly colored pills and capsules into my palm, deftly thrust the entire fistful into my mouth and bent to wash them down…

I just used nimbly and deftly in same paragraph.  I apologize for this egregious overuse of these lesser known adjectives.  Sometimes that happens with some of the more unruly adjectives that sneak onto the page and parade themselves shamelessly about as though we could not live without them.

Gammage opened in 1964 and is the only public building in Arizona designed by famed architect, Frank Lloyd Wright.  The concert hall has terrific acoustics and none of the three thousand seats on three levels are beyond 120 feet from the stage.  Broad sweeping walkways inside and out make it accommodating to all.  And by all we need not limit ourselves to the human variety, for apparently I had in my haste to locate a drinking fountain stumbled upon the drinking fountain designated for Tempe’s burgeoning population of gerbils.  I gave the rotating handle on the bubbler a mighty twist and out of the polished brass spout rushed about six little drops of water.  Plenty enough for a domesticated thirsty rodent, but scarcely enough for a slightly less domesticated adult human male with a bag of pharmaceuticals beginning to stick to his tongue.   Again and again I twisted the fountain handle, each time producing a mere glimpse of the precious liquid before receding back into its underground vault.

Surely the adjacent fountain would not be a Gerbils Only fountain.  I glanced at the man next to me as he raised his head from the fountain and gave a look that said, “I’ve no longer any compassion for gerbils”.  Gammage’s sweeping walkways are looking very very narrow and very very crowded as I wend my way through the masses in pursuit of some liquid relief.  Could I just swallow them? I wonder as I move through the crowd.  I could try, but if I fail and this gradually dissolving array of pills stops short of my stomach we may be watching more than Beethoven tonight. Finally, there it was: a real drinking fountain with a real gushing stream of water and real humans drinking from it.  A few gulps and the drugs were freed from the roof of my mouth and my tongue.  On this night I am especially thankful for cool clean water.

Oh, so you think my story a stretch… ASU.  Maybe a little bent out of shape over the use of their fountain.

01.25.11

365!

One year ago there we were… waiting, praying, talking, trusting, hugging, preparing, and finally rolling down the hall on a (God Willing) once in a lifetime journey.   What an amazing story we have to tell of Divine providence and mercy, of friends and family that have surrounded us with untold prayer and kindness, and of good health and recovery that has exceeded our highest hopes.

Last week I visited Mayo Clinic and Hospital for my one-year follow up exams.  Day one was a visit with the dermatologist.  This is made necessary due to the immunosuppressants that are now part of my daily dose.  These tend to compromise my ability to resist skin cancer.  The dermatological department has their own special supply of “gowns”.  More like bibs.   Like you were headed for the Outback Steakhouse to get a plate of ribs, but in your undies.  In spite of the apparel the results were good, but strong precautions in the sunshine will be a way of life from here on out.

Day two was a fasting blood test and a follow up biopsy. They must have been experiencing a shortage of blood samples to test, ’cause they drained about a dozen vials off before I ran dry. The biopsy was accompanied by a renal ultrasound.  The ultrasound really is a fascinating procedure as they squoosh the transducer (probe) over the site of the new kidney.  The monitor displayed a vivid (shadowy sort of oval) image of the kidney in bright red, blue and yellow colors and the shooka-shooka-shooka sound of blood coursing through the arteries.  The biopsy is a lot less fun, but its all part of the package.  The biopsy syringe draws a pencil-lead diameter by 3 centimeter sample of tissue from the kidney.  Ow.  From this sample the doctors will be able to detect any signs of rejection, inflammation, viruses or DingDongs.  A one hour trip to the recovery room and we are on the way home.  Lunchtime.

Day three was a short trip to the Clinic for bone mineral analysis (BMA). There is apparently some connection between transplant recipients and decreased bone strength.  Was this in the fine print? The BMA test is short and requires laying on a table while a giant arm moves slowly back and forth over the patient, and since the technician didn’t run from the room during the procedure I’m guessing it did not include x-rays. From here I was off to the hospital to collect my 24 hour blood pressure cuff (murse).

Day four was to return my blood pressure cuff and a final visit with the doctor to review the findings from all of the tests.  His assessment: a great success!  The blood test showed all of the many factors tested were within the acceptable ranges.  The creatinine level that had before the operation been hovering above 4.5 (dangerous), has now fallen to 1.5 (good).  The biopsy showed no indicators of rejection or inflammation. Basically, he was just about as pleased as could be with the overall results of our transplant.

How good is God that He should pour out such goodness on us?  How good is God that He should provide me with such a bride?

 

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!

 

01.01.11

Happy New Year! (a balmy 29 degrees in Mesa, AZ this morning… brrrr)

What mercy we have that every 52 weeks we get to recount all the blessings and mercies we have received over this last year.  And this is one forgiven sinner who has drawn more from the springs of grace, mercy and providence of God than ever I could have ever imagined.

2010 started with just a touch of trepidation – having scant experience with actual kidney transplants – and ended with the joy of welcoming our first grandchild into this world.  And in between we experienced the comfort of a thousand friends and family that prayed for us and cared for us, the happiness of celebrating our 30th anniversary, and the triumph of ending the year with considerably better health than that which I started.  And sprinkled throughout many more blessings than I could count.

2011 looms large before us… hmm… what wonders has the Almighty in store for us in this new year?

“Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods?

Who is like you, majestic in holiness,

awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?

11.25.10

November 25.  That can only mean two three things.

1.  Tomorrow at 4:02am at a Walmart somewhere in Indiana an anxious black-friday customer will have a near death experience in aisle 33 involving a Barbie Range Rover and a George Foreman Grill.

2. Today marks ten months since I received my new kidney!  Wow, that went by in a hurry!  These last months have sped by with nary a hiccup.  Okay, a couple of insignificant little hiccups and maybe a burp, but mostly just nary.  Nancy and I have healed up wondrously and my most recent blood tests have shown that the new kidney is performing just as it ought.

and

3. Thanksgiving has arrived.  Not that we should find but a single day in 365 to make known our gratitude, but rather a single day of the beginning of 364 more to follow that will each one be full of wide-eyed wonder and thanksgiving more heartfelt, more joyful and more full of praise than the one that went before. Happy Thanksgiving!

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever! (1 Chronicles 16:34)

04.18.10

twelve weeks!!

How about that!  Maybe I can get another fifty years out of this new kidney.

Yes, I have wandered away from this blog for the last few weeks, but I have some excuses.  Not good excuses, more like weak alibis like … work … and well … other stuff.  Okay it was mostly just blogger’s block and laziness. In a word: sloth.

I’ve been back at work for more than a month now and in many ways it feels like I never left.  Time now for a vacation that doesn’t include doctors.

Spring has sprung here in the desert Southwest.  Our orange trees are loaded with more fruit than we could possibly consume ourselves. Any visitors are required to take a bag or two with them. Plenty more to be had for anyone that wants to stop by. Recently the orange blossoms made their annual appearance covering the trees like a blanket of snow and flooding the neighborhood with their intoxicating aroma … unless of course you are one afflicted with pollen allergies, then it was just misery.

My recent visit with my regular nephrologist went very well, all of the blood tests show the critical measurements to be right where they ought to be at this stage.  We have so very much for which to give thanks.

So good in fact … that yesterday morning Kristen and I participated in the Sixth Annual Pat’s Run, a 4.2 mile charity run/walk (jog, slog, waddle, dawdle, creep, crawl and sprawl). The Run is named for the Arizona State University and Arizona Cardinal allstar football player, Pat Tillman who left a very lucrative NFL career to seek a higher calling as a US Army Ranger.  Pat lost his life in the line of duty in Afghanistan in April 2004.  This is the first time I have ever participated in an event like this. It really is pretty amazing to see about 20,000 people lined up for about a half-mile in the street waiting to run the course. We ran down the street across from the ASU football stadium, across Tempe Town Lake (pond by midwestern standards), through a neighborhood (stopped momentarily to take my schedule-specific medicine), back across the lake, and back to the stadium where the run finished by running through the tunnel and crossing the 42 (Pat’s college number) yard line. Now, before any disillusionment should set in, let me confess that for me a distance run is anything further than home-to-first on a softball diamond.  So 4.2 miles is really approaching marathon distances as far as I can tell.   It took Kristen and I about ten minutes just to get to the Starting Line, which was also the last time I saw her as her ponytail bounced off into the distance ahead of me.  I was able to jog the first mile, but after that it was a bit of walking and a bit of jogging for the rest of the distance.  I finished in a little under an hour, or about 20 minutes behind Kristen, or about 40 minutes behind the front runners, or just before sunset, but… I finished! Again, it was fascinating to see the flood of participants on the field and in the stands of the stadium, every size and shape and age to be had.  And when those seven and eight year old dwarfs would streak by me with their dads, I would try to console myself with - yeah, but I just had a kidney transplant – knowing full-well I couldn’t run four miles on the best day of my life.  Maybe next year I’ll run the full 4.2.  How very good God has been to me that I have this strength to continue this life’s journey, may I use it for His glory.

One week hence (04.25.10) Kristen will be presenting her Senior Recital at Arizona State.  This is her final recital for her bachelor of music degree and will include works by Liszt, Beethoven, Bach and Schumann.  Come for the Music, stay for the cake.  If you can make it, it will be worth the trip.

And finally, all the more to give thanks for … Nancy and I are going to be … drumroll …  Grandparents! Yes, our daughter-in-law, Heather is expecting our first grandchild.   Congratulations James and Heather, God bless you on this amazing journey! “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord.”