Showing posts with label immune system. Show all posts
Showing posts with label immune system. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Minnesooooota

 

Since writing this post on December 15, a lot has changed. I figured I'd go ahead and post this one and fill in the rest later...

Oh, hey there.
You know when you haven’t talked to someone in a while and you want to call, but the notion of catching each other up on every detail that has taken place since your last conversation is overwhelming, so in the end you simply don’t call? That’s been the nature of my relationship with this blog for a number of months now. I have wanted to write – and have started several posts – but never really knew where to begin or how to catch up. Instead of deliberating any longer, I’ll just share some recent news and fill in the biggest gaps.
Almost everything has changed. I left my job (in a “congratulations on your lay-off” kind of way) and am enjoying some much-needed time off with the security of ongoing health insurance. I left New Jersey and am now living in my parents’ basement – it’s a lot better than it sounds, but it’s still my parents’ basement. I finally went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN and am currently under the care of their transplant team.
The Mayo Clinic is a very impressive place. The facility was modern and immaculate, the staff members were friendly and efficient, and most importantly, the doctors were thoughtful and thorough and extremely intelligent. While the “Eureka!" moment I had imagined did not materialize, my parents and I left Rochester with a new idea and a little bit of hope.
The cardiologist there believes I might be ultra-sensitive to one of my main medications, tacrolimus, which may be responsible for my extreme fatigue. Tacrolimus is very standard immunosuppression treatment following heart transplantation and is typically tolerated very well. However, it is known to contribute to problems like diabetes and kidney disease, two afflictions I have had since beginning the drug. I’m hopeful that my sugars and kidneys will show improvement once I stop taking it, but my hope for relief from my fatigue is more guarded. I have learned the hard way that it’s easier on the soul to expect the worst in solving this mystery.
To maintain sufficient immunosuppression, I will transition to a different drug called sirolimus over the next month or two. Sirolimus is used in kidney transplant patients and has been less commonly used in heart recipients. I’m aware of some unlikely but grave side effects that have been seen with sirolimus, but my new cardiologist does not anticipate any problems with the switch. I had also considered this drug with my NJ team in the interest of protecting my kidneys, and they were likewise supportive.
I began the transition on Tuesday. This first stage introduces the new drug while maintaining my regular dose of tacrolimus. Next, I’ll begin reducing tacrolimus and increasing sirolimus until I reach a therapeutic level of sirolimus. I’ll have regular lab work, which will be monitored closely by my team at Mayo. I expect to feel any significant changes within the next three months.
If the move to sirolimus only prevents me from requiring a kidney transplant within five years (the path I’m on with tacrolimus), that will be a win. But the true opportunity here is to get my life back. I can no longer even remember what having energy feels like and can hardly imagine a life without this crushing fatigue. What bliss that would be.
Regardless of the outcome, I am grateful to the fine folks at the Mayo Clinic for truly listening to me, offering really thoughtful insights and ideas, and for showing my parents and me that genuine Minnesota hospitality. Don’t cha know.

Stay tuned for...the REST of the story.

Friday, September 10, 2010

It's A Dangerous World

Do you ever have one of those days when you feel like everyone is trying to kill you on the road? You’re minding your own business on your way to work when the jackass in front of you realizes he’s about to miss his turn and slams on his brakes, causing you to narrowly avoid ending up in his trunk. Then just when you think you’re clear, the woman coming from the other direction is crossing into your lane while attempting to apply her new volumizing mascara. She mercifully takes a break to flutter her eyelashes, glances at the road as an afterthought and swerves back into her lane at the last possible minute. Your heart finally stops racing and you’re comfortable enough to really step on the gas, when a granny-mobile pulls out right in front of you at approximately 7 miles per hour, causing your brakes to hiss in revolt. When you finally get to work having narrowly avoided disaster, you feel like you’ve already starred in the latest Hollywood action flick.

Well, that’s how I feel every day post-transplant, except it’s germs trying to kill me instead of bad drivers. I recently went to have a bone density scan and was expected to wait my turn in a roughly 4 by 4 foot room with seven other people already inside. There might as well have been 100 knife-wielding boa constrictors in there. Another day, my mom and I went to dinner at a place where a salad bar comes with your entrĂ©e. I have happily eaten from said salad bar multiple times, but now that’s about as appealing as a buffet of eel eyeballs and poisoned darts. Then there are the elevators at the hospital. When I’m stuffed in there with several other people, I feel like I should be wearing a full biohazard suit and gas mask to protect myself from their coughing and sneezing.

This germ-evading behavior is foreign to me. I’ve always been the person to happily take a bath in my sketchy hotel room, to stretch the 7-second rule to more like 7 days and to rather enjoy buffet-style dining. Now however, it is clear that I need to adjust my behavior and adapt to my newly compromised immune system. Each day I try to channel my inner Edye (a VERY germophobic friend from work). This is my new reality – I have to be on my guard all the time. While I used to feel most threatened in my car on the road, now virtually every other place on earth feels more dangerous to me. I guess I’ll just have to arm myself with Clorox wipes and Purell and get used to taking on this dangerous world, one germ at a time.