Last night, while Aaron and I were watching a movie on my laptop, the radio came on several times of its own accord. Each time Aaron turned the radio off, only to have it turn on again.
"Maybe it's Grandma," I said to him, then to the empty air, "Is that you, Mom? What would you like to tell us?"
No response. Hmmmmm....
Saturday, February 27, 2010
One More Hoop to Jump Through
Yesterday I underwent the echocardiogram that is to decide my fate. The technician would not tell me anything, saying I had to wait to see the cardiologist on Monday. Whether I get on the kidney transplant wait list depends on the results of this test. I know that I did well because I've been doing so well at cardiac rehab. Thirty-five minutes on the treadmill at a 3.5 percent elevation and 3.8 mph. Then I lift weights and ride the stationary bike.
My appointment with my Kaiser cardiologist, Dr. Phan, is 1 p.m. Monday. He has to write a letter approving me for the list. Then on Tuesday at 9:20 a.m., I see the UCLA cardiologist, Dr. Le, who must also approve me.
The next step is one I had not realized was necessary until I spoke with Angie, the assistant transplant coordinator, late last week. She said my initial round of appointments with UCLA had been consultations only. In order to get on the list, I first must be approved by the Kaiser transplant board, which meets this coming Friday. Ugh! One more step in this protracted, Kafkaesque process!
Once I get the go-ahead from the Kaiser board, then Angie can make an appointment for me to see the UCLA transplant surgeon. If he's OK with me, then my case goes before the UCLA transplant team, which has the final say.
So, there are still a minimum of six steps left:
* Dr. Phan's OK
* Dr. Le's OK
* Kaiser board's OK
* Angie securing an appt. with the surgeon
* surgeon's OK
* UCLA transplant team's OK
In my worst moments, this entire business reminds me of Kafka's "The Trial," in which a poor soul tries to find his way through a system that is mysterious, frustrating, and forever putting more obstacles in his path.
But for the most part, I realize that this, too, will pass. Once I get through this, it will be over, and I will no longer think about it. Of course, the end is really the beginning. Once I am on the list, the search for the right donor begins.
So, once again, I ask anyone who is of O blood type to please consider giving me the gift of life.
And even if you are of another blood type or if you are not interested in becoming a living donor, please register to donate your organs upon your death. According to a spokesperson I interviewed at Donate Life California, only 6 million California drivers are designated organ donors out of a total of 27 million drivers. That's shameful! It's so easy: Just go to the web site and register today. You can even designate a recipient if you wish. (If you don't, your organs, if usable, go to the patients at the top of the wait list.) If you live outside of California, your state has a similar web site. If you just have the pink donor sticker on your driver's license, you are NOT registered, so please take a minute and do so.
Aren't a few clicks on your keyboard worth saving eight lives?
My appointment with my Kaiser cardiologist, Dr. Phan, is 1 p.m. Monday. He has to write a letter approving me for the list. Then on Tuesday at 9:20 a.m., I see the UCLA cardiologist, Dr. Le, who must also approve me.
The next step is one I had not realized was necessary until I spoke with Angie, the assistant transplant coordinator, late last week. She said my initial round of appointments with UCLA had been consultations only. In order to get on the list, I first must be approved by the Kaiser transplant board, which meets this coming Friday. Ugh! One more step in this protracted, Kafkaesque process!
Once I get the go-ahead from the Kaiser board, then Angie can make an appointment for me to see the UCLA transplant surgeon. If he's OK with me, then my case goes before the UCLA transplant team, which has the final say.
So, there are still a minimum of six steps left:
* Dr. Phan's OK
* Dr. Le's OK
* Kaiser board's OK
* Angie securing an appt. with the surgeon
* surgeon's OK
* UCLA transplant team's OK
In my worst moments, this entire business reminds me of Kafka's "The Trial," in which a poor soul tries to find his way through a system that is mysterious, frustrating, and forever putting more obstacles in his path.
But for the most part, I realize that this, too, will pass. Once I get through this, it will be over, and I will no longer think about it. Of course, the end is really the beginning. Once I am on the list, the search for the right donor begins.
So, once again, I ask anyone who is of O blood type to please consider giving me the gift of life.
And even if you are of another blood type or if you are not interested in becoming a living donor, please register to donate your organs upon your death. According to a spokesperson I interviewed at Donate Life California, only 6 million California drivers are designated organ donors out of a total of 27 million drivers. That's shameful! It's so easy: Just go to the web site and register today. You can even designate a recipient if you wish. (If you don't, your organs, if usable, go to the patients at the top of the wait list.) If you live outside of California, your state has a similar web site. If you just have the pink donor sticker on your driver's license, you are NOT registered, so please take a minute and do so.
Aren't a few clicks on your keyboard worth saving eight lives?
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