My Case is on Appeal

Upon arriving home from work tonight, I noticed that there was one message on my cell phone. Dr. Butman, my nephrologist, had called to say he wanted to talk to me about my transplant. Just late this morning I had spoken with Fe, the transplant coordinator, who had told me that she would be receiving a letter sometime this week with the Kaiser transplant review board's decision and at that time she would call me. Somehow Dr. Butman knew more than she did.

I called the PD clinic and was transferred three times before I could leave a message for the doctor. The last person I spoke with was Fe, who, voice pregnant with pauses, said that if Dr. Butman had called me, he should be the one to speak with me. Translation: I'd rather that he be the bearer of bad news.

Shortly thereafter, Dr. Butman returned my call. After some small talk about adjusting my blood pressure meds and an article he had copied for me from a nephrology journal, he told me the review board had rejected my application on the basis of the angiogram that was taken in 2006. He had known about the decision Friday evening, but perhaps hadn't wanted to break the news over the weekend.

The angiogram was taken, of course, before dialysis and the miraculous change in my energy level since then. As I wrote in a previous blog, I feel as if I have a new heart.

Dr. Butman said he hasn't given up hope, that he has already put in an appeal. Within a month, UCLA should call me about an appointment with the cardiologist on its kidney-transplant team. Dr. Butman feels that once the team sees how vibrant and spunky and full of life I am, I'll be given a second chance. Probably UCLA will want to get new data on my heart, which will mean a cardiac workup at UCLA.

I know that Dr. Butman is pulling for me, and I appreciate that. Aaron had been standing by while I was on the phone with him and commented that he spent a lot of time with me. Truly there have been several times when he's spent a half hour, even an hour with me. I sure appreciate that.

Some encouraging words: Dr. Butman said that he would not string me along, that he has not allowed patients to go forward with the process because he felt they were not viable candidates, but he doesn't feel that way about me. He also said that he had had a frail, 80-year-old patient who had been approved by UCLA and that I sure looked a lot healthier than he did.

So my case is on appeal. It's as if Dr. Butman is my attorney, and I have just lost the jury trial in the lower court. Now I have to wait for the higher court to review my case and see if it will grant me a hearing. Like a Death Row inmate, all I can do is wait, as my fate is in the hands of unseen others.