Jeff saw Nurse Jackie, the
transplant nurse at Dr. Porter’s office.
She hadn’t seen him in quite a long time and was glad to see him looking
so well. She reviewed last week’s
breathing test and reported excellent results – one of the measurements was
98%, up from 60% pre-transplant. His
Hemoglobin was 14.7, a new high since transplant. She gave him a new instruction from Dr.
Porter: continue the Cellcept taper, drop one more pill! That means only one night-time dose and we
will once again be able to eat weekday breakfasts together! It has seemed like such a nuisance for Jeff
to take his empty-stomach pills as soon as he wakes up. We’d have tea in bed together, then he’d eat
breakfast after I’d left for work. This
has been our habit for so long that I wonder how quickly Jeff will adjust.
Jackie likes to scold her
patients. Patients like Jeff enjoy
getting her going. He asked her whether
any of his medications could be causing joint pain – shoulders, wrists and ankles
(he failed to mention jaw pain). She
said, “That’s classic GVHD! Do you do
any stretches?”
“Oh, no,” Jeff replied with the
conviction of a couch potato.
“You have to stretch!” Jackie insisted.
“Amy and I mall-walk in cold
weather. It doesn’t hurt while I’m
walking but the next couple of days my legs and feet hurt terrible.”
“But you stretch before and after
you walk, right?” Jackie asks. Surely
she could have guessed his answer.
“No.”
Jackie shook her head. If only her patients were more diligent in
following her instructions! She called
in the Physical Therapist who gave him some exercises.
The lab orders for Jeff required
four vials of blood, a big lab day. In
addition to the several routine panels, another engraftment analysis was
ordered. We usually don’t get those
results until his next doctor visit.
They have caused me some anxiety in the past but this time I was not overly concerned.
Jeff told me about a new patient he saw in the waiting room. The woman looked ill and was accompanied by a young relative wearing blue University of Pennsylvania scrubs, a nurse. The younger woman was telling the older woman what she could expect in the lab department. The lab door opened and “Mary!” was called. The phlebotomist asked Mary, “How are you today?” Jeff thought that was a question that didn’t require an answer. Anyone could see the answer was “lousy” so he answered for her, “That’s the million dollar question.”
Jeff told me about a new patient he saw in the waiting room. The woman looked ill and was accompanied by a young relative wearing blue University of Pennsylvania scrubs, a nurse. The younger woman was telling the older woman what she could expect in the lab department. The lab door opened and “Mary!” was called. The phlebotomist asked Mary, “How are you today?” Jeff thought that was a question that didn’t require an answer. Anyone could see the answer was “lousy” so he answered for her, “That’s the million dollar question.”
In other news, Jeff’s New Year’s
resolutions included prioritizing some of our home improvement projects. You might remember that during Jeff’s early
recovery he took a permanent marker to the ceramic tiles on the bathroom floor
to mark those that he thought he’d replace when he was up to it. Months later I removed those X’s with
toothpaste and elbow grease to avoid the questions we invariably got from
guests. When he asked me to go
tile-shopping last week, I asked whether he was really ready to tackle the
project which now has evolved into a near gut-job. He assured me he was going to start it right
away so off we went.
No comments:
Post a Comment