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Sep 20, 2008 - 05:21 PM |
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This Is Where Things Get Serious. Seriously. |
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I've been in the hospital, again, for the past two weeks. I didn't make much fuss about it because I know that some folks are wont to send gifts and such. That's all very appreciated but it's normal for me to endure several of these hospitalizations a year. Last year, there was a generous show of support - it was definitely what I needed at the time - but to continue playing the victim would be a shameless and materialistic grab at free loot and sympathies.
It's no large secret that I have Cystic Fibrosis. If you're not familiar with the illness, I won't explain it here in detail. You have Google, look it up. The end story, however, is that my lungs have slowly become pretty useless. I'm only able to use approximately 22% of the total volume. I also deal with painful adema and sleep apnea as side effects.
Back in January, I travelled to Pittsburgh to visit a team of specialists. After a week of tests, they decided that I qualify and am a good candidate for a double-lung transplant. However, once transplanted, the patient must negotiate tricky rejection issues. It's foolish to jump the gun and transplant before a person truly requires the procedure. I was placed in "observation" status, then sent home.
No longer. The medications require larger doses to have an effect, and I've built resistances to several. The side effects of illness are becoming more than mere annoyances. When it was learned that the carbon dioxide levels in my blood are much higher than normal, the decision was made. I'm officially on the waiting list for a double-lung transplant.
I've known this was coming, I began thinking about it a decade ago. I've long since resolved myself to the ordeal. Right now I'm filled with a curious cocktail of excitement and terror. Fact: I am volunteering to have my own lungs torn from my body. There's a very real possibility that I will not awaken. There is also a very real possibility that I'll experience newfound levels of health and stamina unlike anything I've known. The latter is worth risking the former.
The obvious question now is when will the transplant happen? That, I don't know. I can't know. It relies entirely upon something bad happening to another person. Such things are unpredictable. My job is to be ready.
What I do know is that I have very little competition, if any. Transplant waiting lists are sorted by blood type, and mine is AB+. That's rather rare and there aren't many people with my type seeking new lungs. There's a very strong possibility that I'm the only person on that particular list. Of course, this goes both ways; lungs from an AB+ donor are much rarer than those from common blood types like O. Nevertheless, they do show up. It's just that the rate of availability is nearly impossible to predict due to the rarity. I could get the call as early as tomorrow afternoon or it could be months.
I am now faced with the proposition of how to handle my employment. I may not be in the best condition to continue working. Many of my monthly debts - auto loan, dental, credit card, medical bills - can be indefinitely deferred under the pretense that I'd be too sick to earn a living. Many institutions won't argue against a person who needs new organs. Bad, bad press, right there. I'd go on full Social Security and pick up Medicaid. The upside is that Medicaid covers nearly all transplant expenses.
I'm allowed to continue working if I truly wish. I may, though I wonder if the management will strongly encourage me to quit once they learn that I'm active on a transplant list. I don't accuse them of being concerned for my well-being. No, it seems like something they'd do to avoid having to pay for several months of disability.
But today marks the beginning of an interesting new chapter in my life. The foreshadowing is omplete and now we're just building toward suspense. I will arrange for a way to keep GFF notified when the event does take place. I'll probably have Merv create a thread and keep it updated.
In related news, this probably means I'll have to pass on the 2009 Meet. As much as I'd love to go again, I can't guarantee that I'll be in good enough health. Maybe I'll feel like a million dollars by then. But there's no way to know and in the meantime, I should probably dedicate my resources to the far more important task at hand.
So yeah, interesting day I've had.
I'm totally gonna bring my harmonica.
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