Monday, May 14--second day in ICU

Ramiro came in around 7:30 a.m. and told me all about Margaret's house, which he said would give me claustrophobia. it is an old house, and she has every inch of it covered with photos of kids and grandkids. Ramiro characterized it as a Mexicana house--the kind of house that our grannies had, with old furniture, every knick knack ever given to her, kids artwork from 20 years ago, all the kitschy souvenirs from vacations, and of course lots of religious icons, prayer leaflets, church bulletins, etc. Margaret is true to her roots. Although that's not exactly true because althugh her mother was fully hispanic and came from the same background as my mother (in fact, they were girlhood friends), Margaret's dad was an anglo man; hence her maiden name Kinney. My sister arrived around 11:30 and I sent both her and Ramiro to get some lunch at the cafeteria. My lunch was broth, decaf iced tea, jello, orange juice, and a popsicle. This was exactly the same thing I got for breakfast, except the jello and popsicle were a different color from the morning. Different color aside, they tasted the same. And when I took the lid off the broth bowl, it was empty! So the nurse made me some beef broth and brought it in a styrofoam cup. it was very salty, and I worried about all the sugar in the rest of the liquids and the high salt content of the broth. But, I needed to eat something, so I did. Of course my blood sugar readings were high, especially since I was hooked up to a glucose drip. I wondered whether they'd ever stop pumping fluids into me, but they didn't and I stayed swollen and uncomfortable. Around 10 a.m., the transplant team came in for "rounds." This included Dr. Marlon Levy, Bettina Herrera-Go, Kay (dietitian), Nicole the Physician's Assistant I had met Sunday), and a host of other doctors and nurses. Dr. Levy asked me how I was doing, and in good southern fashion i answered "Fine, thank you, and you?" To which he replied "I'm awesome!" I was so tempted to say "No, you're not," but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Didn't want him to think that the steroids had already kicked in and I was going to be a difficult patient. He proceeded to tell me that the new kidney had already brought my creatine level down to 0.9, which is (at the high end of) normal. He said the transplant team had not seen such efficacy from a transplanted kidney so quickly after transplant. I told him that I could already feel an improvemet in some of my more noticeable symptoms. He noted that the kidney was working so well, that it was flushing out some of my minerals and electrolytes, like potassium and phosphorus, which are necessary for many functions in the body, including muscle response. He said that low potassium could lead to muscle impairment, which could impair breathing if the diaphragm muscle didn't have the right chemical balance. Because of that, he said he wanted me to stay in ICU one more day, until they got my minerals stabilized. He said that if I got into potassum or phosphorus trouble, ICU was better equipped to respond than the post transplant wing of the hospital. So, I'm here another day,it looks like. The nurses hook me up to bags of phosphorus and magnesium, and I get a shot in my arm IV with potassium. This shot stings and burns so much that I yelp in pain and the nurse decides to inject it into the drip line that feeds into the neck IV, where the fluids can dilute it somewhat so it doesnt burn. By the middle of the afternoon, I'm told that my minerals level has stabilied and I can, after all, be moved tothe post transplant floor today. However, at present there are no vacant beds on post transplant, so they are waiting for someone to be discharged, which is also supposed to happen later in the day. I figure I'll be up there by about 4 p.m. But no...dinner time comes and no one has said I'm moving. Ramiro and Juanita go down to the cafetria for dinner, and I get another round of Jello, popsicle, broth (chicken), juice, and tea. I ate the broth and the popsicle, and a few cubes of the rubbery jello, but I'm tired of this same fare and no interested in anything else. Ramiro and Juanita leave around 8:30; Juanita is staying at the Homestead Suites, and Ramiro is going back to Margaret's house. Tomorrow he is leaving for Arkansas to check on the house, try to take Grace the Cat to the kennel, and get our mail held for a month. I watch a little TV, doze off and on, and wonder whether they've forgotten about my move. But around 9 p.m. I'm told the move IS going to happen, but it won't be just yet. The nurses keep asking about my pain level, and keep reminding me about my self-administered pain relief button. About 10 p.m. I decide to give myself a squirt, hoping to get some sleep. I'm not hurting, but it may help with sleep. It does, but the nurses keep coming in and waking me up, so I decide to skip any more self dosing. At MIDNIGHT, the nurses come in to tell me that my room on the 8th floor is ready! I'm out of ICU!