The Lizard Doctor. oops..hepatologist not herpetologist

I've just returned from a weekend in Cowley County.  I had a great time at the wedding Saturday (Kayla Biddle, Jess's daughter.  Jess is Mary & Raymond's youngest son) and it was fun to see extended family at a non-funeral event.  Sunday I drove to Wichita for a satisfying visit with Aunt Janet, my godmother.  The new wedding clothes looked good and I felt wonderful and fortunate and grateful.

Aunt Janet, cousin Claudine and Aunt Cathy were terrific supporters all during my illness and recovery.  They sent lots of cards and lots of good wishes.  Aunt Janet kept up with the blog and often called Claudine and Aunt Karen to read them the updates.  Janet has 5 kids who all kept up and sent good wishes; Cathy has 5 kids who kept up.  I am just very fortunate to have such a large family and folks who were not afraid to pray and talk to each other and create lots of positive vibes for me.  Now I have seen the oldest generation and I must start on the next generation, mine.  Heaven forbid!  there are two generations younger than me; life comes at ya fast.

I stayed with friends in Arkansas City, long time friends; and their kids and grandkid came to visit.  It is like bookends to my illness.  The last thing I did before I went in the hospital was go to Ark City to help with Andy and Melissa's wedding.  And now I've visited them with their 1 year old baby.  Mark joined us this weekend too.

I survived the travel in good shape though the drive home today was very long.  My legs and feet are swollen and they become sensitive to the touch.  Jeans hurt.  I couldn't wait to get home and put on some knit pants.  To complicate the drive home my bladder went into high gear and I had to stop often to empty.  It reminded me of travelling with my Granny who called gas stations "emptying stations."  But I am home and I am fine.  Not worn out despite the aches and pains.

The visit with the liver doctor Friday was interesting.  Peggy went with me and brought along a pad to take notes.  The doctor came into the room and started talking like a machine gun with an Australian accent.  I sorted out the accent fairly easily but his upper lip didn't move and he kept looking down at his paper.  He didn't say hello or shake my hand or get introduced to Peggy.  His nurse slipped in and had an equally brusque manner.  However, the doc had an amusing sense of humor and he did look at me after I pointed out my hearing aids to him.  Short excerpts:

"I know your liver isn't failing because your feet swell up and your albumin goes up and your albumin is fine."
"I need to do a biopsy and I'm really good at them I've been doing them for years in Nebraska and here and I know what I'm doing and folks hardly know they've been stuck and I hate that because I want them to recognize how painless it is and how good I am at it and the risks are 1 in 1000 of bleeding and 1 in 10000 of death and what do you think?"

My response.  Silence.  What does one say after that?  So I got some more information out of him about why a biopsy--to see who is warring that is causing the enzymes to go up--and what happens after that.

He says in the liver the graft can fight against the donor, or it can actually be fighting the disease--leukemia or MDS (myelodysplasia.)  And a biopsy will identify the opponent by the type of scar tissue in the ducts in the liver.  Then I will take the appropriate drugs to assist my liver.

So I agreed to the biopsy and he exited after admonishing Peggy to "take good care of her."  Peggy was as shell shocked as I was but we feel we got good information ultimately.  The doctor also had high praise for the BMT team and remarked that not only were they terrific oncology/transplant doctors, they all had specialties in other areas.  Ganguly is a gastroenterologist (like the liver doctor.)  Who woulda guessed?

On the way to the lab Peggy remarked that it appeared he and his nurse thought we were partners, in the bedroom sense of the word.  I didn't give that much thought "whatever" but then I went to the restroom and noticed my very short hair in the mirror.  I had a good laugh--one could be forgiven for thinking we were partners. 

Whatever!
~Cathi