Who knows? I may have gotten it anyway - fever of 102.3, stiff neck (left side), and headache - but b/c of my lowered immune system due to taking kidney antirejection meds, I had my first post-transplant challenge.
When I went to Kidney Clinic today, I spent a long time w/my nephrologist Dr Kung.
He lectured me on the importance of immediately reporting when I get a fever. The fear is that something may be attacking my new kidney and that my body may be rejecting it.
I'm fine, but he put me on ampacillan. I have no idea how to spell that word.
Kung spent a lot of time with me hammering that point home. He made darn sure I understood the severity of not reporting these possibly telltale signs.
Early on after my transplant, I think I goofed up taking my meds. My surgeon came into the room and also lectured me....one of his patients was brought into the ICU almost brain-dead.
Luckily, Kung didn't see me tonite when I took my evening pills. The lil devils easily slip through your hands. So I'm taking my second handful with cold water and start walking around the kitchen.
Suddenly I look down and see I've not only dropped one of my Prograf antirejection pills, but walked on it and smashed it. I downed it with water.
While at the clinic, I told Kung my support group publishes a magazine and I wanted to include in this issue a quote from a nephrologist about lithium.
Oh, it definitely injures the kidney, he said. He said he has a patient w/kidney damage who still remains on his lithium - nothing else works - and he is monitored very closely.
Long-term lithium users are at risk for kidney injury.
Scott drove me to Kidney Clinic and we arrived at 8 a.m. The huge TV always blares but I still managed to read (Onward by Howard Schultz, founder of Starbux) until the 700 Club came on.
Scott and I were incredulous about this show. The host rarely talks about Bible things b/c he's always telling his own parables about how people who believe in the 700 Club - not people who believe in Jesus or the Holy Mother or even good ole God - will prosper and just haul in the dough.
It was quite hilarious. The people are commoners, down on their luck, unemployed, nearly homeless, and then they send in a donation to the 700 Club and their luck changes!
I'll tell you, I'll get down on my knees and thank Jesus - or Orion - or Hera - that my kidney is okay. I dunno. Maybe it was just excited b/c its twin - residing in the depths of Sarah Lynn Deming ran in the September 18 Philadelphia Half-Marathon down Broad Street, accompanied by Steve, Niki, and Melissa.
Sarah finished in two hours, my lil kidney donor! Click here for a photo of the four champions plus lil Patrick. It expires in 60 days.
The poem below was wrin a long time ago. It's one of my favorites.
THE RUNNER AND THE LADY
At a party at the hotel
where I wore my best black velvet
evening gown
a man in a pale blue running suit
asked me what I did.
Do you mean what do I do?
Or do you mean Who I am?
Both, if you please, he said.
He was in a rush
having come in from the cold.
I am a chaser of light, I said.
That's all I do.
It's all I care to do.
Can anything else matter?
See, over there, on the bar,
those counterpoints of light,
pointillas,
quite at home on the polished wood?
They are vagabonds
strays - sent - through the open window
by the setting sun
to instruct and delight.
See how strong they are
how yet undiminished!
Yes, I can see, he said,
his face coming to a rest.
I am a runner.
I run in differing directions
at variable speeds and turns
in circles, spirals, leaps,
and even a pliee or two.
I'm on my way from Shreveport
going north to Bar Harbor.
The food here's not bad.
The carrots with the chervil dip
are particularly delightful.
Do you think they'd mind
if I pocket a few for my trip?
Also I am fond of the
bloody marys in the clear plastic cups.
Can I get you something? Anything?
Will you run with me?
Thanks, I say, holding out
my hand for a farewell kiss.
I'm sorry but I do not run.
But I will think of you often
fleet as a hunter
streaking through forests
and tar-hot highways
your footprints bold
on the ocean's lacy edge
pushing north toward
the big country
and the shortening of the days
while the suns of a thousand
twinkling galaxies
gather you up, o runner,
in the daydream of your days.
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