Post Transplant

At first it seems as though I am returning to the hospital consistently. In reality, it is twice a week. Mostly we are trying to get a balance of the drugs that will keep me alive. These include steroids, immunosuppressant/anti-rejection drugs, antiviral drugs, mineral and vitamin supplements. The biweekly visits go to weekly and then every other week.

I return to the rehab program, now I rate private sessions as there is concern of infection, whenever in public I must wear a mask (this gets me some strange looks when I go to the bank). Unknown to me at the time, I am Maria’s first patient that she has worked with from pre-operation to post operation. Through many weeks of efforts (two weekly sessions at the clinic, and daily trips to our association gym), I rebuild my muscle tone and stamina. I start walking my step mothers dogs through the neighborhood.

One morning my sister calls and asks if we have heard the news, there are wildfires raging through the area and much of San Diego is being evacuated. The phones calls start flying, yes the doctors want me out of the area, quickly! I am to call in as soon as we get settled and away from the smoke. I pack my car with clothing, my computer, and some personal possessions, I get one of the dogs and up Route 5 I go. Palm Desert is the immediate target, Paige, my stepsister, is looking for a hotel which will take us (dad, me & two of the dogs), Gail is to stay with Paige in her apartment with the third dog.

The roads are covered with what looks almost like heavy fog, opening the windows reveals it to be smoke. I wear a mask for most of the drive until I am passing though Camp Pendleton and it begins to thin. As I head east I am able to open the windows and allow fresh air into the car. As I approach the wind farms outside Palm Desert I pull to the side of the road and call Paige who gives me the address and directions to the motel. The motel is nice, it has a clean exercise room, a wonderful breakfast bar, that is a cut above most, internet connections and even an area for guests to walk their dogs. It is quickly filling with refugees from the San Diego area. This becomes our home for the next several weeks while the fires run wild in San Diego. It is the first time I am separated from the doctors since enrolling in the program, it is a mixed bag of feelings – I worry about what could happen being so far away, yet it is liberating in that I do not feel like the doc is looking over my shoulder.

We stay there several weeks before getting the all clear to return to San Diego. Something within the household has changed, the chemistry between my father, stepmother and myself. I am more confident, and growing stronger daily. I am hitting the gym daily and doing walks, starting to do more around the house. I’ve started cooking again, at first a meal now and then (without being on oxygen I can once again use the gas stove and barbeque without fear), which grows with frequency.

The doctors seem happy with my progress, my visits are now every other month and will soon go to twice a year. I ‘graduate’ from rehab, and though I will return to visit, it is sad to say farewell. I continue with the UCSD Heart Lung Rehab Group, Karen Matthews our social worker will become an integral part of my new family.