Ray Lamontagne soothes the soul

It's been over a month since I've been told there is nothing left to do but wait to get sicker. A lot has happened since I've last updated, so I'll try to cover everything.

I'm sitting in my bed with my laptop listening to Ray Lamontagne; letting his raspy voice and beautiful lyrics soothe my soul while I recall some of the not so fun things that have happened so far this year.

My last post went over what happened at my last CF clinic appointment. Just a quick recap: After Stanford declined taking me on as a patient, I was relying on my CF doctors to help stop the decline in lung function. Why not have my transplant center (UCSF) take care of me and my possible chronic rejection you ask? Well, my transplant center is one of what seems like a growing group of transplant centers that are very apathetic toward their patients (I should include there are a Few people I've talked to who have not had this same experience with UCSF) and do not have a protocol toward treating chronic rejection. My CF doctors have exhausted all their resources and are not familiar enough with the transplant field to know what to do for the possible chronic rejection(CR). So, I've been left with absolutely no idea what I'm to do about my increasingly fast decline of lung function. In the last month alone Benito and I both can tell a huge difference in my breathing. My last fev1 (lung function lingo) was at 33% prediction, which is at the point where people would be listed for transplant. I was at 17% fev1 at the point of my first transplant, but since the damage CF did to my lungs was so gradual, I was able to adapt to the low lung function. The decline I have now seems to be happening to fast that I'm not able to adapt and it feels like it takes forever to be able to catch my breath after walking just a few feet. Imagine trying to inhale through an empty balloon... That's exactly how my chest feels when I'm out of breath. My sound of my breathing is getting to be so noisy that it keeps me up at night (I sleep with a fan going even if it's freezing, just to try and cover the noise of my breathing).

So after the last clinic appointment at my CF center I had yet another balloon dilatation done on my right narrow airway and after that procedure was over, my doctor came to the recovery room and talked with Benito and I about where we need to go from here. I had brought a printed out copy of a conversation between a very good CF/Transplant friend of mine who goes to Duke hospital. In these conversations she was helping me with what treatments she knew of that hers and others have used to treat chronic rejection. I gave this copy to my CF doctor to read over before my procedure that day and by the time I saw him after the procedure he had read it over a few times and had spent a half hour speaking with the pulmonologist there at UCD that worked my up for my transplant evaluation six years ago. This pulmonologist used to work with the lung transplant team at UCD years ago when there actually was one, so he knows a little more about transplants than my CF doctor. Basically all they came up with, was that I needed a transplant center to administer these treatments because they have never prescribed them and didn't feel comfortable having me be their guinea pig. So, this left me to first go back to UCSF and see what they could do for me, then if I get nowhere with them, I can look into possibly going to UCLA, but it's eight hours from where we live and it would be both physically and financially draining to have to relocate.

Fast forward to February 10-11th. Benito and I went to San Francisco to visit my transplant doctor for the first time in a year hoping they will give us some hope, although I wasn't expecting much. I had my PFT's (which showed my fev1 down to 33%), CT scan and transplant clinic on the 10th and bronch with biopsies the following morning. My doctor basically told me he wasn't convinced what I'm going through is chronic rejection. He's STILL convinced the stenosis I have in my right main bronchi is causing all this decline in lung function. I was willing to believe him for a while, but after 2 years of my lung function getting worse and worse by the month even though I was getting balloon dilatation's to open the airway every month. So I brought up IF what's going on is chronic rejection, what does he usually do for his patients in CR? He basically said that after making sure the patient is on Azithromycin (which I've been on since my transplant), he doesn't do anything. He believes there is no proven treatment for CR. In fact after I brought up a list of treatments that I know other hospitals are using for their patients in CR, he denied that more than one center is using one of the treatments (which I know is untrue), and said the other treatments don't work. *Huge sigh* At that point he said "there is one thing you haven't mentioned yet" and I knew what he meant... Re-transplant. He said he would re-transplant me in a heartbeat because I'm "such a great patient". I can't tell you how upset that made me. I feel like this hospital treats me like a customer and not a patient they need to care for. They are so eager to re-transplant me (where they'll make $200k just for the surgery alone), rather than do whatever it takes to try and treat what's wrong now. It's very unnerving to not have faith that your doctor is doing what's best for you.

The bronch the following morning was an absolute nightmare. I have chronic side pain, which is assumed to associated with a chest tube and nerve problems. This pain gets a lot worse when I deep breathe and it's forced me to take pain medication every day in order to just get out of bed every day. Well the fellow DR that was in charge of my bronch for some reason was so afraid to over medicate me that I was awake during the bronch, given only a child's dose of Versed (medication which is supposed to help you relax). So during the bronch, the guy who calls himself a doctor was only able to biopsy my left lung because my right airway wasn't open enough to get the tube down through it. Once I got to the recovery area I was in 12 out of 10 pain in my side and stayed that way for 3 HOURS because the doctor was scared to give me any pain medication because somewhere in his tiny brain he thought I might get over medicated. Mind you, my O2 sats were 97%, my heart rate was around 100bpm and my blood pressure was around 160/80, which is too high, a sign of a person in pain and not in danger of being over medicated. After about 30min of crying, the nurse closed my curtain around me so he and everyone else could try and ignore me. 2 1/2hrs later while still in 12 out of 10 pain and still crying, the nurse came in and said "good news! the doctor is allowing you to take half of one of your pain pills!" I was like "You've got to be kidding me! Why can't I take a whole pill? I take a whole pill at home every 8 hours!" The nurse took my bottle and cut one of the pills in half and handed me the half along with a glass of water. I asked him for the bottle and dumped his half back into it and took a full pill. That nurse flipped out! He opened my curtain and told me I'll never be able to take my own medication again (Fine with me! The hospital shouldn't force their patients to treat their own pain! THEY shouldn't allow their patients to be in excruciating pain for 3 hours without trying to help them!). He then demanded that I give him back my pill bottle. Ummm HELL NO! I told him that once he brought my fiance back into the room I'll give the bottle to him. He didn't need to be worried that I'd take more. I've been on this medication for years and I know not to over medicate myself. So about 45min later when my pain was beginning to get better, the "doctor" came in and said that since I took a whole pill against medical advice, he was going to put me in the ER to be watched and made sure I didn't desat and stop breathing because of my excess medication dosing. WHAT?! First of all, it wasn't excess. I had less medication so far that day than I usually do on a daily basis. Second, no doctor who knows anything about transplant recipients would send their patients to the ER where there are God knows what kinds of germs floating around and risk getting me sick. A few minutes after he left, a different nurse started his shift and found out what had been going on and called one of my REAL doctors. Within a half hour my tx doctor had come in and wrote discharge papers saying to hurry up and go before that other "doctor" followed through with his crazy ER plan. It's sad, but events like these are not all that uncommon for me at UCSF. Most of the nursing staff is great, but I can't say the same for their doctors.

Two weeks later I was back to UCSF because my tx doctor wanted me to come in and go under general anesthesia while they go down to open up my airway and take a better look around. Thankfully once I got to the recovery room that time, the doctors and nurses gave me adequate pain control and were very kind. My main tx doctor came in to talk to Benito and I after the dilation with a huge grin on his face saying "I think we did a great job opening that airway". Unfortunately the week following that procedure my breathing got really bad and for the first time I think even scared Benito. It's been almost 2 weeks since the dilation and I'm beginning to get back to my baseline. I have CF clinic on Monday and I'm not sure what to expect.

Onto better news, Benito's sister will be getting married this next Sat 3/12 and I'm her maid of honor! Benito and I haven't really done any major wedding planning for us yet. I want to enjoy my wedding and as of now, my health won't let me. So, I'm hoping to start wedding plans the day after I am feeling better! :)