Spoiler Alert

Part 6: SURPRISES & OTHER MEDICAL EVENTS...

Ohhh—sorry again for such a gap of time since my last post update. I’m going to—justifiably—blame the medical industry.

For weeks I heard nothing from the Mayo Clinic then poof! Everything hit the proverbial fan simultaneously. Week 1: was 10 separate tests and consultations Thursday, September 25—9AM to 5PM. In my humble opinion the design of this campus should have included connecting each of the three distinct medical buildings by a tunnel with one of those moving sidewalks installed like the ones at the Denver International Airport. Sending an aging Baby Boomer from 3rd floor in Building-3 back down to main floor then to Building-1 main floor then back to Building-3 to the 6th floor then to Building-2, main floor then back to Building-3 on the 7th floor then back to Building-2, Concourse level then Building-1, west wing…was obviously scheduled by a 20-something, former gymnast

From Building 3 on the left to Building 2 in the middle to Building 1 on the right should be declared a new Olympic track & field event!

If you were confused reading my Thursday timetable, just imagine how lost I was rushing for 8 hours between, back-to-back appointments. Amazingly, there was only a single test Friday, September 26. Good thing too, cause by that time progressive Multiple Myeloma was looking preferable to more ‘tests’.

Week 2: a 'harvest' at the Mayo Clinic does not involve wheat, barely or corn - it involves [in my case] white cells.  Also - as in politics complete candor [aka "Truth In Advertising"] does not seem to apply in medicine either--and looking at the photo below I’ll explain why!

Over the course of the last 11 years reveling in the experience of 6 separate treatments for my Multiple Myeloma, I’ve encountered what those in the medical field call ‘ports’. Several of them. They are comprised of a tiny, tiny hollow tube slightly thicker than a human hair inserted in the vein of an arm - often between elbow and wrist, or upper chest just below the collar bone. These ports remain in place to allow for the flow infusion of medications into a patient’s system for specific treatments. I also ‘thought’ I knew that a PICC-line was a similar medical gadget…

So, that late September Thursday between wave after wave of tests there was also two consultations at which the medical expert [who had been doing this for a decade or more] explained - in the course of 30 minutes - a number of future procedures critical for me to complete prior to receiving my modified-super-hero-white-cells. By the end of the day, I had two folders with almost as much research information as I collect for my fiction plots. Naturally my head was spinning. Somewhat…

If I had known 'exactly' what this particular PICC-line/port-insertion entailed I may have hidden out in Nova Scotia, changed my name and taken my chances with the Multiple Myeloma...

Moving on—the photo showing a red line and a blue line [a 3^rd line color coded purple not in photo] was the 'port' that was in actuality attached to my neck via a 35-minute [minor] surgery using local anesthetic, and ‘not’ in the least resembling the simple drawing I was shown. During the surgery I was given a local anesthetic. I couldn't feel anything because whatever they used numbed half my head on the right side. Good thing too.

Accessing my jugular vein, a 7" clear plastic tube [that looked like a soda straw] was inserted to just above my heart. After that was in place then with a clamp for each of the 3 color-coded lines was connected to the plastic tube [aka soda straw]. At that point, did I resemble something from a 1930s B rated Frankenstein movie? Yes, I did. And my ensemble caught the attention of several startled people seated in the waiting room of building #1! Enough said...

The following morning all of this convoluted medical engineering was attached to three more longer clear plastic tubes that were also attached to a quirky upright-style vacuum cleaner with a centrifuge inside.

The red line carried whole blood from me to where the white cells were separated from the red cells. My red blood flowed back in the blue line along with liquid calcium that was returned to me in the purple line. Five hours later half a pint of my white cells was packed in a FedEx box then flown that afternoon to Jessen Labs [Johnson & Johnson] in Dan Diego. 

Sometime in the next 3 to 4 weeks my [modified] white cells will make a return trip to Phoenix where I'll get my super-duper reprogramed immune cells back. [I have been assured that the delivery of the modified cells is an infinitely simpler process than the harvesting was...oh yeah right. Hmmm.]

Despite the giant pressure bandage that was on my neck for 48 hours after the two-day procedure, after all that equipment was removed [and I’m 'not' going to detail how that was accomplished] what is visible now on my neck resembles a ¾ inch long paper cut—and I feel fine.  Everyone, of the Mayo medical staff who handled my care are/were amazing.  

Perhaps from years of experience keeping patients slightly “in-the-dark” works more efficiently, but for me the opposite was unsettling. At each consultation I was asked if I had any questions, but as patients facing new procedures, we don’t know what we don’t know. I do now, after the fact. So, as much as possible do your own research. That’s what Google and Bing are for. Each of us only have one ‘patient’ to look after, our medical team must deal with hundreds every week.

Hopefully you feel brave enough to return for Part 7…