Jeff's Journal

Road Trip Exodus

It is difficult to believe that a mere two weeks ago I was in the hospital receiving a kidney transplant. Between the clinic, pain management and current events, I have not found the time to write.

Last Thursday was a full day of testing, drawing blood every couple of hours (without the central line) to negotiate absorption rates of the immune suppression drugs. The Thursday bloodwork was very good. The marker for kidney functioning continues to improve and the transplant team reduced some of the immune suppression drugs. The dietician continues to lecture me about diet, but after living on a VERY restricted diet for the past five years, I’m cutting me some slack for a couple of weeks.

Since all was going so well, the team decided not to do the med levels on Monday and I was given the option of doing bloodwork on Monday in Clear Lake, rather than driving all the way down to the medical center for a stick in the arm. I took the local option. It saved me time and pain as the incision is still making itself known. (Even a visit to Vicadinia did not seem to help.) I do not have Monday’s results.

The plan was for me to spend today (Thursday) in the clinic doing the med levels again. That was until Rita came into our lives.

I spent time with another temperamental woman back in 1983. Her name was Alicia. She came into the Texas coast as a category 3 hurricane. All I remember was I stuck around thinking I could ride it out. The hurricane itself wasn’t so bad by the time it traveled 100 miles inland; lots of tornados, dozens of trees downed, rising water. All that was tolerable, but the weeks without water and electricity (read, no AC) and the bugs were a pain. It was also the week I was heading off to Golden Gate Seminary. (As soon as the airport was open, I took a flight for that adventure, but that is another blog post.)

Having been there, done that hurricane thing before, being immune suppressed and in those post-hurricane conditions seemed like a bad idea. Bugs and no immune system, rising and residual flood water with a healing incision and chest catheter seemed to invite more problems and not able to lift anything seemed to complicate things. Then there were the anticipated storm surge models. Rita was projected to be a category 4 or maybe 5. Our neighborhood has a mandatory evacuation with category 3 hurricanes due to the potential for rising water. Monday we made plans for a possible departure to Lockhart (Shelley’s folks) if Rita were to come around for a visit.

First on the list was to get meds filled. The pharmacy did not have a ready supply, but promised they would be there by Tuesday. Plenty of time to leave.

Clear Creek Schools decided at the close of business on Tuesday to close schools for the rest of the week to allow Clear Lake citizens to evacuate. Meds were not available on Tuesday, but by 10:00 am on Wednesday, they would be there. I cannot lift anything, but spent Tuesday preparing the house, gathering papers (flood insurance policies!) and video taping an inventory of our house.

We put things up and packed on Wednesday morning. At 10:00 am Shelley went to get meds, as promised. However, at 10:00 am, there were no meds available. They would be available at 2:00 pm, so back to putting up more things. At 2:00 pm we discovered the pharmacy LOST my scripts. After connecting the pharmacist with my transplant coordinator, we got partial fills and made plans to get the rest of the meds when we got to Lockhart. Needless to say, when we return I will find a new pharmacy.

We left our drive way about 2:15 pm. The trip to Lockhart usually takes about three hours. At 4:00 am, yes that would be fourteen hours later; we drove up to the front door of Shelley’s parent’s house. This trip was bumper to bumper and 5-20 mph all the way across Houston and central Texas. There was a ribbon of red in front of us and a ribbon of white behind us as far as you could see into the night. The only other light was a full moon. When the moon was low in the sky, it was an eerie red glow that would be consumed by darks clouds every now and then. Foreshadow, anyone? When we got past Columbus, TX, the traffic did pick up to 55 mph. Had we been able to depart at 10:00 am, with meds, it would have been better.

I bear witness that an incision swells and you can feel your heartbeat at every stitch after sitting up for 14 hours. Also, the jury is still out on this one, but I hope the little mask was enough of a barrier against all the people we encountered on the way. So much for medical seclusion and taking it easy for sixteen weeks!

We have discovered several of our friends are here in the hill country, so Skyler may get to have some sort of birthday celebration on Saturday after all. I, on the other hand, am holed up in a back bedroom attempting to comply with the medical orders I was given.

I have been watching the news all day and if I thought last night was bad, it does not even compare to the current departures. I was told by a police officer last night there were approximately 600,000 people departing last night. By tonight, almost 2 million people are estimated to have evacuated Houston – if they can. The broadcasts show traffic bumper to bumper at a stand still, cars out of fuel, tempers rising. Now the point of Rita’s entry has moved up the Texas coast from Galveston to Beaumont and many people are turning back home. However, the cone of plausibility still contains Houston and with a category 5 or 4 hurricane the storm surge will be substantial.

Jerry has evacuated to the Dallas area. He is still tender and unable to pick up anything, so he decided to pack some clothes, papers, lock the door and head north. We did not pack too much with us, a couple changes of clothes and documents. We left pictures. (Sitting here all day, I have thought of pictures and baby books I wished we had brought along with us. They are securely wrapped in water tight containers upstairs. Hopefully the storm surge will be small, the roof will hold and they will make it. I’ll work on a packing list for next time since global warming is not going away.) I guess we are learning how to carry our possessions only in our hands and not our hearts. It makes for a quick escape.

If someone had told me I would be on a massive road trip two weeks after surgery, I would not have believed it. I’m just glad I am two weeks into this experience and able to gingerly make this trip. Last week I would have been toast. The story remains to be told when we will return and then what we will face when we get back. My transplant coordinator called today to let me know that my appointment for Monday is canceled, but I will have to have tests done next Thursday. The big question is where!

posted by Jeff Waldo @ 7:58 PM