No News is Good News

I know it’s been a minute. If you’ve been following us for a while, you know that when we get home, whether it’s for a travel trip or a hospital visit, I don’t like to post. And also know, no news is good news. Also, I needed a break from writing for reasons I’ll cover in another post. While I was waiting for the delivery of the Tank at Jenny and Jeremy’s, I got a pic from Bev. Her Amanda and Britt were out eating lunch, then going rug shopping for the apartment. It was good to see they got Amanda out and about, but I was a little sad her first outing wasn’t with me! And no, you can’t see the pic because Amanda has extreme moonface from he steroids, she can’t stand it and is very sensitive about it. 

When Tank arrived, he wasn’t all excited when he saw me, as everyone was expecting. Number one, he had to poo and pee, and the old man was just confused with a bunch of new faces. We loaded up and hit the road. I only stopped for gas and food, and never even let Tank out until I got to north Louisiana to stay with my aunt and uncle. She’s always had a ton of dogs as long as I can remember, and currently, she has around 5 or 6. Tank hasn’t been around many other dogs, but he did well with the little ones; the big ones were locked outside since one was an instigator. Tank took to my uncle and his little buddy, Bossy, well, though. They all loved Tank, and he chilled in the kitchen with us as one of my cousins came over, along with his aunt. It was good to see everyone. 

We rolled out pretty early in the morning, before my planned 6 am departure. Amanda and Britt took it easy until dialysis. Amanda had been feeling alright after dialysis. I guess they haven’t been pulling as much, and her body may be getting used to it, too. So, afterwards, they went to Ross, still rug shopping since all the others they found were expensive. Though I think I did a pretty good job with a lot of help from Joel, understandably, Amanda wants to put her touch on the apartment.

Tank and I rolled pretty hard to get to Nashville. I planned our stop to get gas and fuel for ourselves in Memphis. I figured we might as well get some BBQ. I looked up spots off I-40. I found one rated highly and located near a gas station, so it worked out. Being from Texas, I expected to be disappointed in the BBQ, but not as much as I was. When I pulled up, it was a hole in the wall. I figured it was either really good or really bad; it was the latter. Tank was happy and got a good bit, though. I made a stop for a soda later to perk me up, and ended up getting some gizzards from a gas station later since I couldn’t handle the crappy BBQ. Tank and I shared those, too; thankfully, he never hotbox me!

Amanda and Britt went to see a pain specialist since the transplant NP would only prescribe a 3-day supply of pain meds after discharge. I just thought that was crazy. Thankfully, Amanda had some of her old prescription to make it to the pain appointment. Even the pain doc wouldn’t write a script for pain pills until the second appointment, which had to be a month from the first. They gave her a weird patch for pain that goes on the inside of your cheek to get her by. It must be horrible for your mouth and teeth because it reportedly requires regular dentist follow-ups. I asked our coordinator about a dentist appointment, but they won’t give clearance until 6 months after the transplant. Amanda was hesitant to take the pain patch, and so was I. I really wished I had been there for that visit because I would have grilled them pretty hard, treating her like a new patient when we’d seen them in the hospital. They even made Amanda do a drug test!

I realized parking at the apartment was going to be a pain with Amanda pretty quickly. The breezeway to our apartment is in front of five substantial landing pad steps, plenty of room for her walker and all. When I got the apartment, I figured she’d be able to handle those well after a bit; I wasn’t anticipating a knee surgery as part of all this. She wasn’t able to do the steps well. The opposite breezeway has a sloped sidewalk and improved handicap parking, including a van-accessible walkway, which gives Amanda sufficient room to get our of the Yukon easily; however, it is frequently occupied. We pay for parking, crazy, I know, but you can pay a little more and reserve any spot. I wanted the spot on the opposite side of the handicap walkway. As soon as I arrived, I went to tell the office that we wanted to reserve that spot to save us the frustration of not having a handicap spot. They just needed to paint the reserved on it.

After a bit at home, it was time to take Brittany to the airport. Amanda wasn’t up for the trip, so I ran her there myself. Britt was a little scared when I winged it and took her via the back streets, which I’d learned from my 85-year-old church greeter/chauffeur friend who’d dropped me off at the airport when I flew out. I’d planned to get some Mediterranean food on the way back, but the spot I wanted was only open for lunch that day. It wasn’t a great neighborhood, but the fare I was going for was worth it. I had some lady come out of a dark alley to ask me for a cig when I was getting back in the car! After locking the door, I began to search for another spot there. This area is dotted with Mexican and Middle Eastern places and is a rough neighborhood close to the zoo. It’s okay during the day but sketchy at night. There was a place I put an order in online, a couple of miles down the road. When I turned off the main drag, there were some unsavory characters, and then I passed a mosque. I knew the food would be good and authentic when I saw that! Let’s just say I didn’t get out of the car without being strapped, and I’m not talking about wearing a belt! I was likely the only non-Muslim in the restaurant. The food was great, and I spotted a few other places, namely an Iraqi spot that I’d really like to try.

The reserved spot would end up being a saga. They finally painted a spot, but the wrong one! Then, the spot we wanted had someone parked in it for a few days straight. To boot, the wrong reserved spot had someone parked in it, too. Later on, the one car that had been taking the right spot parked in the newly marked wrong reserved spot! I was livid to say the least. The reserved spot drama would continue for a while, though.

We had our first transplant follow-up. I’d talked to the coordinator on the phone a few times, and we’d been ironing out details. I’ve been taking care of the follow-up appointments, scheduling, and talking with the coordinator about everything as well. I really like her. I’d asked if she’d be at the transplant follow-up. She said she primarily works remotely, but would come if we wanted her to. I told her there was no need. When we got the appointment, she was there to surprise us. She stayed through both the NP and doctor visits. She just chatted with us before, during, and after. I really hope we stay with her because we both like her a lot. Everything looked good on the heart side of things, and they were happy.

Amanda finally got to meet the baristas I’d been chatting with and getting coffee from for the last few months. They were excited to get to meet her, and I hadn’t seen them in a while since Amanda had been out of the hospital either. It was a full day, and we had an appointment with ortho to have them check Amanda’s knee out right after we grabbed coffee. Everything looked good, and the ortho put an order in for PT for her knee at the same place the cardiac rehab would take place. He leaned toward the lifelong antibiotics but said that we’d need to wait and see how things progress.

It was Farmer’s Market Day at the medical center. Amanda didn’t have a long walk to make it there. She was saving energy since she was going to do her first cardiac rehab session after lunch. So I ran down, grabbed a few things, and got some lunch for us. We had a decent amount of time before the rehab appointment, so we ran back to the apartment to eat our lunch there. We were worried about leaving Tank alone too long for the first time since he was back, too.

On the way back, I had some pants to drop off at the cleaners. When we pulled up, my friend, a solid brother in Christ, noticed our Yukon. Then he threw his hands up when he saw Amanda riding shotgun! I thought he was going to come running out. He was excited to see Amanda, and when I dropped my clothes off, he came out to the car to meet her. With tears in his eyes, he spoke of how great a testimony we will have from all of this. I got a big hug before we left, as usual. 

The following day, we slept in. Amanda was sleeping pretty well, and I let her sleep through her pillbox alarms and got her meds out for her. I didn’t realize how long it had been by the time she woke up, but she was mad I didn’t get her up to take the meds. It was only an hour and a half; I figured she could use the extra sleep. All we had on the docket was dialysis in the afternoon. After I dropped Amanda off at dialysis, I went to Hopdoddy. I thought Hannah would be bartending, so I went to see her. I also texted Dan, the father of the lung transplant recipient, to meet him there. Sadly, Hannah wasn’t coming in until later in the evening, so I missed her. However, Dan and I chatted for a while and caught up on each other’s patients.

The weekend was easy, with not much on our plates. We visited a farmer’s market in a nearby town that someone from church recommended. It was good to get Amanda out, and we picked up a few things. We got a four-pack of pumpkins to stack next to the front door for fall decor. I rustled through a trailer full of pumpkins, stacking various combinations with Amanda deciding which was best, finally settling on the perfect muted fall multicolored set. Bev knew we were out and told me to come by. Her neighbor was in, and she’d been wanting me to meet him; she figured he and I would hit it off. We swung by. I chatted and made friends with her neighbor, but not her dog; that guy hated me. I even tried to win him over with some dried beef liver, we’d picked up for Tank from the farmer’s market. That didn’t work. He ate the snack, but still hated my guts! The dude loved Amanda, hopping up in the Yukon with her, though.

Sunday, I’d hoped Amanda would feel up for church, but she wasn’t just yet. After that, we took it easy the rest of the day. Monday, we had an appointment with the sleep team to follow up on what the overnight oxygen study found. The doctor agreed that he thought Amanda did, in fact, have sleep apnea. He said it was common in heart transplant patients, linking it to loss of muscle and muscle control in the throat. Essentially, her airway muscles get weak and just close off. This lack of oxygen sends a signal to the brain to wake up and breathe. Many of these wakeups go unnoticed but still interrupt deep sleep. This leaves Amanda feeling groggy, hungover, and tired throughout the day. The oxygen concentrator we got is good and helps, but she needs a positive flow of air to keep the airway open, which is what a CPAP machine does.

To get that machine, Amanda would need a sleep study, though. The inpatient sleep studies were booked way out, but we had the option to do one at home. That was still booked out a month, and she won’t be able to pick it up till early November. I was quick to ask the young doctor, Ok, this is sleep apnea, and you told us the management plan. What is the treatment/prognosis, though? I wanted to know if this was forever or not. They quickly said it was just likely temporary and should improve. I’m assuming, like many other issues, Amanda has it from being inactive for a month in the ICU and still down a good bit for the following two months in step-down. A lot links back to muscle atrophy, including this. I thought we’d seen a lot in the realm of recoveries and heart surgeries, but turns out we still have a lot to learn.

The sleep doc was in Franklin, a few miles further, but about the same time from the apartment as the Vandy Med Center. While we were in the suburbs, we did basic white girl things like going to Home Goods! Amanda still wanted a few things for the apartment to add her touch. I needed some kitchen stuff, so it wasn’t all hers. She also wanted to get some things to redo her door decoration, which she made in Houston. We were pillow shopping for the love seat, something to match the decor, mainly the new rug the girls had picked out. We perused the multiple pillow aisles. I’d pick things out to mostly get shot down quickly. I felt it was like the reels that show the husband giving his wife an apple she’s already picked, and she doesn’t like it. He keeps handing her apples she’s already put in a bag to buy, but she doesn’t want them and looks for another! We ended up with three selections to match an embroidered pillow she picked that coordinated well with everything in the living room. I threw the pillows on the floor and switched them back and forth. We finally settled on green pillows for a nice feel. I really like the way it turned out, and it coordinates with everything. Things are coming together at the apartment and making it nice, making Amanda feel good; she needs a win, even if it’s a small one.

Tuesday was supposed to be an off day; I’d told Amanda I wasn’t leaving and not getting out of my grungy clothes all day. I spoke too soon, though. I’d called a dentist to get in for a bi-annual exam and cleaning since I’d missed my second last year and hadn’t seen one at all this year. They called back, saying they are usually six weeks out on booking, but had an opening on Tuesday. I took it. Bev called and said she wanted to meet Tank, and Sam was off, too. So I told them they might as well come over for lunch. We hadn’t had them over to eat, and feeding people is kind of a thing for me!  I was a bit late because my doctor’s appointment was delayed, and the cleaning took a while. Turns out I need a crown. Not urgent, but I’ll likely get it taken care of next year when I’m here for a stent. They hung out for a bit, with Bev occasionally snuggling with Tank on the floor. At least Tank loves everyone, not like Bandit, who’s racist against tall bearded men!

Wednesday was a busy day, much like one we’d have back home. We were gone from the apartment for about 12 hours. Amanda had a rehab appointment in the morning, then we decided to go to Hobby Lobby. We were looking for a sign or whatnot to go with our little doorway pumpkin patch. We finally found something that worked and got a couple of little decor things for the kitchen. Of course, in Hobby Lobby fashion, everything was cheap and half off. With Amanda’s varying weight, now about 25-30 pounds lighter than her admission weight and 50 or so lighter than her heaviest fluid retention weight, she needed some new pants. So we hit TJ Maxx. While she shopped for clothes, I hit up the kitchen stuff. I had texted Joel to check on him; he’d had a stent in the hospital himself. He was doing better, back to work, and told us to stop by to see him and meet his coworkers, whom he had been keeping updated on us. He works as an interior designer at a locally owned high-end furniture store and was on the sales floor, so we stopped by to introduce him to Amanda. I was glad for Amanda to meet him and hope we can all get together soon. 

We’d tried to get lunch in downtown Franklin the other day at a spot Bev recommended, but it was busy, and there weren’t any accessible parking spots near the restaurant. We tried again, and after a couple of laps, we got a curbside spot. It is fall break, and still busy, but we got in just in time and ahead of the crowd. It was excellent and a place we’ll return to. After lunch, it was time for dialysis, and I had an appointment with a PCP for an annual exam. My cardiologist here said it was more important for me to follow up regularly for yearly blood work for my bicuspid valve than anything else, so I figured I’d have some lab work done.

The doctor was young, and I was pretty sure her birth year started with 20 and not 19! A funny question she asked during the social questions was whether there were guns in the house. That was a quick yes, then she followed up with whether they were secured, which was a no. She asked if there were kids in the home. It took her back that I had unsecured guns in the home. She said I’m not sure how to counsel you on that, and I may have to ask my attending. She wasn’t sure of the laws, but I was. Tennessee is like Texas and doesn’t require a concealed carry permit or the “securing” of guns in a home. I told her I grew up around guns and was comfortable with them and didn’t need counseling. Good thing I didn’t tell her they were loaded and unsecured, both! I’m sorry, but an unloaded and secured gun is just a paperweight and useless.

I did make a run home to let Tank out. I also needed to move my Suburban out of the spot we wanted reserved. I took it as soon as it opened so they could get it painted. They were finally ready to paint it after the rain had stopped. Then, I went to pick Amanda up from dialysis. We went to a farmer’s market near downtown Nashville, but on the outskirts, in a gentrified area. We lapped that place nearly 10 times before I found any parking that was suitable for Amanda to access the market. It was a decent small market, and I got some veggies, hot sauce, and whole wheat sourdough made from discarded spelt grains from a brewery. About half of the market was on grass and wasn’t accessible for Amanda and her walker, though. There are markets on Wednesday through Saturday, from May through October, all over the area. I was really kicking myself that I didn’t do a salsa stand at them all while I’ve been here, but I have been a bit preoccupied!

While we were at the market, Hannah texted me asking where I’d been. She was bartending at Hopdoddy, so Amanda and I went for burgers after the market. I was worried about parking; there is no handicap, but we were able to get a really close curbside spot. It’s a good thing because Amanda was tired after walking over a block to get to the market. It was good to see the crew, I knew a lot of them, and they seemed happy to see Amanda with me. She couldn’t get on a barstool, so we sat at one of the few lower tables, all large six-tops. At this burger joint, you have to order at the counter unless you sit at the bar, one of the reasons I’ve always sat there. That didn’t matter for us, though; Hannah came right out and got our order and brought everything to us. I joked that it was weird sitting at a table, and she agreed. 

We hadn’t even had our food for a bit when Hannah texted me that a girl at a booth had paid for our meal. I wasn’t sure if it was on the down low, and if she didn’t want us to know she’d bought our food, but by the time I got to ask Hannah, they’d already left, and I couldn’t thank her. I have no clue who it was either. This isn’t uncommon, and I’ve had many people pick up my food or beer there a few times, especially after an employee who knows our story tells someone. A few of the bartenders have done that, too. That’s actually how I met Joel. Brett had offered a cot at his apartment and picked up my meal not long after I met him. Joel was moved by Brett doing that, knowing he didn’t have much, and asked what was going on. I’ve had a lot of good things happen at the burger joint bar top. God has helped us through many people there and also opened many doors to share about Him and our testimony.

When we got back to the apartment, I was glad to park in our new reserved spot, which was perfect for Amanda to get out easily. The paint was fresh, but dried, and the maintenance guy had already moved the ladder blocking the spot while the paint dried. Except someone had already taken it, yes, the reserved spot I tried so hard to get. I’ve never wanted to slash a tire more in my life!