We pulled up to the front entrance of Hanahmen University Hospital. The valet service promptly greeted Lori and I and we handed over the keys to our car. I looked up at the facade of the building towards the 15th floor where I would be spending the next two months.
The staff of I. Brodsky and associates were ready and awaiting my arrival. After I checked in at the front desk, the transplant coordinator Linda escorted us to her office where I signed a bunch of dire, ominous sounding, legal paperwork. As we concluded she asked me ” Well, are you ready to go?”. Thinking…not really Linda but what other choice do I have. I said, “Sure…let’s do it”.
We began the stroll to the opposite side of the 15th floor where the Bone Marrow Transplant unit was located. It was a pretty scary place actually. A square shaped unit with a large command center in the middle, it bustled with doctors, nurses, Lpn’s and sanitary personnel. Each individual room was about ten feet wide by twelve feet long with a glass wall facing the center aisle. A sliding glass door, when closed, would encase you in the germ free bubble that it was. Your own self contained capsule with a bed, portable toilet, two chairs for visitors and a small bedside table. Also, a TV hanging in the corner. Your only connection to the outside world and entertainment with a VCR player attached. On the wall facing your bed was a very large blackboard too. The wall on the opposite side had a room length window. I had a direct view of the Philadelphia Inquirer building clock tower. I always knew what time it was. It was also a corner room. A luxury. I must have been special.
I was met by a team of nurses and resident doctors along with Dr. Topolsky to brief me on what was to happen next. My belongings were checked to verify that I had brought only what was minimally essential, no nail clippers allowed! I had to change into a hospital gown as Lori was given my clothes to take home. Underwear and socks were the only clothes needed. Questions? Sure…. I had a few. I found out that the blackboard facing my bed was going to be where the daily diary of all of my blood counts would be written for the duration of my stay. Like a scoreboard of sorts.
The Q and A lasted a few minutes but had to be cut short. The transport people had arrived to take me to the operating room. It shocked the hell out of me! I barely had time to breathe and boom… my first procedure. I had no clue about this. Dr. Topolsky told me that the OR surgeon was waiting to install a Hickman Catheter in my chest. I was transferred to the gurney that would roll me to the operating room. When I got to the OR, the nurse explained to me that the catheter was surgically implanted in the center of my chest and secured directly into my Aorta. This so I wouldn’t need to have multiple IV’s to deliver the multitudes of drugs and other assorted nutrients and liquids that would sustain me throughout the process. One three pronged delivery system that would remain in me for the duration of my hospital stay and beyond. This catheter would turn out to be one of the most uncomfortable things you could ever imagine.
“Ok Jeff”, the Anesthesiologist said. “Count backwards from 10 to 1”.
Next up: Back in the Unit