T+100 The Doernbecher Caper

BOX SCORE	8/16/2024
Element	Current	Std. Range	Trend
Hemoglobin	11.6	13-17	v
Platelets	161	140-375	v
ANC	5290	1800-8300	^

Although I am posting this on day T+101, it describes the events of August 16, 2024, day T+100. I was just too tired to write yesterday. Why, you may ask, was I so tired? Good question.

I arose at a few minutes after 5:00 am. Now, you may think that was because I was so excited that it was moving day, or perhaps, I wasn't sleeping well. You'd be partially right, both of those things were true, but the fact is that I usually get up at 5:00 am, anyway. I don't know why; I'm just a morning person. 

At any rate, Jill was also up...also a morning person. So we spent an abbreviated time getting caught up on email and playing a few computer games. We had a little breakfast, and then we did some final packing before we were off to complete my last day of treatment at OHSU. 

The first stop was Doernbecher Children's Hospital (DCH). You see, as part of the transplant experience, I have returned to being a child. No, no, that's not right; I have begun to act like a child. No, that's not right eiher; I've been doing that for years. No, what I mean is that I am in my second childhood. There's some truth to that last one, and in fact my transplanted bone marrow is that of a child, in the sense that it has not fully developed yet. 

My new immune system is healthy, but it’s in its infancy. It has to be taught what to attack and what not to attack. So, I will need all of the normal childhood vaccinations along with stuff like Hepatitis B and C, flu, shingles, pneumonia, etc. Those can’t be done until 6 months post transplant, which will be Nov. 4th. I'm not sure how long it will take for me to receive all of those and for my immune system to make antibodies for all of them. In the meantime, we remain mostly quarantined. But I digress. 

The real reason we went to Doernbecher is that the pulmonary function testing unit is located there. So, we jumped into the already heavily laden Ford (poor old girl) and blithely headed for DCH, which is about half a mile, as the crow flies, from the Hobbit Hole. But I ask you, would you want to fly with an old crow? 

Heading down "The Hill," as the OHSU campus was called when I went to the dental school (which is now a parking garage), we turned right on Campus Drive upon which DCH is located.  We made about 150 feet, before we learned the road was closed due to one of the plethora of building projects going on at OHSU. 

Undaunted, we did an about face and drove down Sam Jackson Parkway, mostly in low gear, because it is a long and winding, downhill road...well, not really so long, but what it lacks in long, it makes up for in winding. Arriving at the bottom of the hill, we made a right on Terwilliger Blvd. and went winding back up the other side of the campus. Now, the lower end of Campus Drive is open, but due to the closure of the upper end during construction of numerous new buildings, traffic was all jammed up. We inched our way up past the Casey Eye Institute, and the Elks Eye Institute, and the dental school come parking garage, until we arrived at the turn onto Upper Campus Drive and the DCH parking lot. 

Guess what. No parking spots were available, so we made a loop in front of the lobby door and headed back down Upper Campus Drive.  If you are confused, so were we, being now in peril of being tardy for our appointment. Providence was with us, though, and just then a space opened up. I gobbled it up like a duck on a June Bug. We found our way into the hospital and eventually found the reception desk, where we inquired as to the location of the pulmonary testing unit. The pleasant woman at the desk gave us directions, some of which we remembered, as we turned to find the elevators. 

Lo and behold there was a horde of people lined up about four abreast and 20 deep. That's when  we learned that of three elevators, two were out of order! Well now, that was certainly helpful. When it was our turn to board we found ourselves packed in, like raisins in a box, with ten or a dozen fellow travelers. This is twenty-first century quarantine at its finest. Masks or no masks, I felt very vulnerable. 

We did successfully arrive at our destination, miraculously only five minutes late. After a brief wait, we were ushered into a small room with a phone booth (remember those?) sized enclosure and a computer terminal. Kalena, the pulmonary technician, explained what was going to happen. She is an excellent teacher and communicator. In a matter of minutes, the testing was completed, and I was pronounced a very competent patient. 

We returned down the slightly less crowded elevator to the lobby and marched out the door. Jill said, "I don't think this is where we came in." ALWAYS listen to Jill. I had forgotten, in my tardiness anxiety, that on the way in, we had to take two elevators. Returning to the lobby, we found the second one and finally descended all the way to where we needed to be.

We had a leisurely drive back to our residence, had a bite of lunch, and with the help of our Schmalhauser Togetherness Squeazer, we put in the last minute packing items. We left the Hobbit Hole, but in spite of having the code number for locking the door key in its lock box, I could not remember how to work the darn thing. This was actually a good thing, because it meant that I had to knock on the landlord's door and beg for help. Fortunately, both he and his wife were home. Matt helped us put the key away, and we got to say goodbye and thank you before we set out for my second appointment of the day, which by contrast with the first one, quite uneventful. 

But not really! What I mean to say is that it all went smoothly, but it was anything but uneventful. The first order of business was a routine blood draw, which would turn out to be the last one to be taken via my PICC line. Oops, there I go getting ahead of myself again. It is comforting to know, though, that as a rushin' writer,  I am in good company; remember Tolstoy and Dostoyevksi? 

The blood draw was completed, and as we waited for the results to trickle in, we learned that my counts were all looking good, as you can see in the Box Score. Soon, Dr. Meyers and her sidekick Christie appeared. Some of the lab results were in. The news was all good. Serum magnesium was high enough that I would not need an infusion! Dr. M also confirmed that the results coming in from my biopsy on the previous Friday all look good. And finally, she assured us that, not only were we not premature in checking out of our lodging, but my PICC line would be removed in the next few minutes, meaning we had completed the OHSU journey. 

Sure enough, Lily removed the PICC a few minutes later, and we were discharged. Feeling absolutely giddy, we headed to the parking garage, where we found our overloaded car raring to go home...and take us along. Off we went, rejoicing about the good news of the day and looking forward to sleeping in our own bed. When we got to Tualatin, there was one of those lighted reader boards announcing that from that location to Wilsonville would only be a 32 minute drive. Well, it is about three or four miles, after all. And here I was naively thinking that at 2:00 pm on Friday afternoon we might miss the 24/7 gridlock in Wilsonville. 

Once we had crawled through that town, which is nevertheless dear to our hearts, because daughter Tara lives there, it was smooth sailing the rest of the way to Dallas. We could hardly contain ourselves as we made a left turn onto Orchard View Lane. Our little bungalow is almost at the end, about three blocks. When we approached the driveway, we found this, which had been erected on our lawn by our neighbors: 

 

 After a brief visit in the street with the perpetrators of this loveliness, we set about the task of unloading the Ford. I think I heard her whisper a "thank you," when we were  done. We had packed tight every available cubic inch of cargo space, or at least every one that would still allow enough visibility for safe driving.

Next on the agenda was to wander through our recently-cleaned-by-the-house-cleaners home in sheer wonder that, after 106 days in exile, we were actually home. We got a couple of cool drinks and sat down on the patio to try and process this most amazing of days, and to thank the Lord, for carrying us every inch of the way.

    Jehovah Jireh, you are a good, good Father, and we love You!