A JOURNEY OF A THOUSAND PILLS!

SEATTLE, WA. DECEMBER 20, 2010, 45 DEGREES RAIN AND CLOUDS.

We are fully into the pre-transplant process. Last Friday I had my bone-marrow biopsy plus a spinal-tap. The bone-marrow procedure went much better than last time, but no one gets off that easy. The spinal-tap was an adventure I'd rather forget. I stopped counting the number of times my PA attempted to get into the right place to remove some spinal fluid. On her last try, she was successful; a great relief for both of us. We went down to Kelso, WA with our daughter Hanna for the weekend. Saturday, we drove to Portland, OR to visit with daughters Cleo and Ella and son-in-law Chris. They are all doing well. We came back to Seattle Sunday afternoon and here we are again back at SCCA. I had to have a fasting blood draw the first thing this morning, 13 more vials of the good stuff. I wonder what they do with all of my blood. The Tech only needed three attempts to get enough blood today. I am looking forward to getting my Hickman Port installed so taking blood samples will get simpler.

Following our first consultation with Dr. Storb, we were given two additional prescriptions in addition to what I'm already taking. TRIMETHOPRIM/SULFA is a combination of two antibiotics used to treat a wide variety of bacterial infections and also to prevent and treat a certain type of pneumonia. In my case, they are using it as a preventative for any pneumonia I may develop in the aftermath of my transplant. The second new drug is a bit more colorful. URSODIOL, as its name suggests, originally came from Black Bear bile. I suspect the Black Bear Union lobbied to stop using real bears for this purpose and so they created a synthetic substitute. It is a preventative to limit liver damage during transplant recovery and is also used to prevent gallstones. In my warped imagination, I can visualize a bile bank that provided income for urban Black Bears, much like people sell plasma and platelets today. That may contribute to the virtual total absence of Black Bears on our city streets. Where is the cartoonist Gary Larsen when we need him? This is the perfect theme for one of his great cartoons. Remember, the real reason dinosaurs went extinct; a picture of a group of chain-smoking dinosaurs hanging around the water cooler.

The biggest challenge isn't taking the 6 extra pills every day, it is coping with the additional side effects on top of those I already have from my current meds. Both of these new drugs contribute to nausea, vomiting, diarhea, loss of appetite, headache, mental mood changes etc. You wonder if it wouldn't be just as easy to treat the disease, but that's a negative attitude, probably caused by my two new meds. Tomorrow, December 21, sister Kathy and friend Marilyn arrive from Des Moines, Iowa and brother Tom is driving over from the Yakima Valley. We have another consultation with Dr. Storb and PA Kristen Kindsvogel Wednesday morning, so they will all likely attend that with us. Cleo is also in the greater Seattle area this week, so we may let her know about the appointment, as well. She likes to ask tough questions of the Medical community and is also our designated recorder. They might have to find a larger consultation room if all of these good people show up. After tests on Thursday, we plan to rendezvous with all of the family back at daughter Hanna's in Kelso for Christmas celebrations. If I am feeling up to it, Hanna asked me to preach at their Christmas Eve service Friday night. I do not have much energy right now and can't predict if that will improve before Friday. I'm hoping that these side effects will lessen as my body adjusts to them. I would appreciate your prayers in that regard and also for the numerous tests that seem to go on and on.

Being in Seattle for such a long period of time seems almost impossible some days. Spending Christmas and New Year's in a strange place and home makes it all feel somewhat surrealistic. Kriss did bring along an artificial tree that changes colors on the tips of the limbs constantly. It is something we put in our living room at home, so it brings some homeyness to us. Time can either go by quickly or really drag, depending on the number of appointments and procedures I have scheduled. I'm supposed to avoid large crowds and potentially exposing myself to bad bugs, so I don't go to the malls or other places with lots of people. We are praying for God to continue to use this time in our lives for His glory. We ran into Chris and Janice Anderson early last week. Her melynoma is in remission and they were leaving for Southern California for several weeks. Given the clouds and rain here right now, I would love to be in a warm place with some sunshine. Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement. We would never make it through all of this alone.

WAPATO, WA TO AIX-EN-PROVENCE, FRANCE, August, 1971

I was excited to leave home and begin my adventure of studying abroad in France. I decided to take the train from WA state back to the Midwest and visit relatives along the way. My first stop was with brother Earl and his wife Jeannine in Bozman, Montana. It was a fairly uneventful visit until Jeannine pointed out that sister Kathy and I had opportunities the older siblings didn't have and how I should somehow make up for that inequality within the family. I didn't really know what she meant or expected me to do about all that. I'm sure that I didn't react very maturely, particularly when she pointed out that because of our coming into the world, older siblings suffered deprivation and hunger. There wasn't anything I could do about my parents prior reproductive decisions, so I went to bed and left town as soon as I could get on the train. The next stop was to meet up with brother Charles in Fargo, North Dakota.

Charlie was a County Extension Agent in West-Central Minnesota and was going to be in the Fargo area, so we arranged to have him pick me up at the train depot. On the overnight ride from Montana, I vaguely remember a Priest getting on the train in Medora, North Dakota. He sat a few rows behind me and when we got to Fargo at 3:00 am, he was getting off, as well. He offered to help me carry some of my many bags and suggested we get a room together just around the corner. Now I was half asleep and pretty disoriented, but I still felt it wasn't the best idea, so I refused. He simiply kept walking down the platform with some of my luggage and with no one else in sight, I followed my bags into a dive around the corner from the Depot. He had obviously been there before, because he threw a $5 dollar bill on the counter, signed his name, took a key for a room on the second floor and went upstairs. I kept protesting that I wasn't that tired, didn't think I could sleep anyway; all to no avail. The room was next to the flashing neon sign "HOTEL", and I knew it must have been a nightmare and I would wake up soon. There was no bathroom in our "room", so the Priest
walked down the hall to the restroom. This was my chance to escape, so I grabbed all of my stuff and started down the hallway to the staircase. He came out of the restroom before I could get to the staircase and gave me this cock and bull story about how ungrateful I was and that he should be the one to be afraid, given the state of American youth in that day. UNBELIEVABLY, I went back into the room and rationalized that maybe God had put this guy in my path for some spiritual purpose. WRONG. I started out by asking him about his Parish in Medora and he laughed mockingly and said he was a bartender in Medora and only dressed this way as a spoof on the clientel. In the midst of our conversation, he stripped naked and said he was going to bed. Now, I'm in serious prayer and questionning my own sanity and safety.

I made some boundary decisions about what I would do if he did ......! I know it's almost beyond belief, but I took off my shoes, kept all my clothes on and laid down on top of the covers next to the defrocked phony Priest. He feigned sleep almost immediately and I vowed if he moved in my direction I was gone. The strobe light effect of the neon sign alerted me to his arm flying through the air to grab me around the shoulders. I simultaneously slipped off the bed and into a chair and started tying my shoelaces as fast as I could. A very unpleasant voice demanded: "Where the hell do you think you're going?" and I yelled something to the effect that I didn't care what he thought, but I was leaving. He tried to get up and stop me from running down the stairs, but being bare-naked, he couldn't be seen chasing me down the streets of Fargo, North Dakota in his birthday suit. I was shaking like a leaf and didn't want to even think of the possible disaster I had just escaped. I found the door to the depot waiting room open and spent the rest of the night thanking God for keeping me safe, in spite of my stupidity. I vowed to never again allow anyone, even someone dressed like a Priest, make off with my luggage and put me in such a vulnerable position.

Charlie, et. al. arrived mid-morning to get me at the Depot. After some small talk, I thought I would tell him about the adventure of the previous night. Now Charlie had been in the Marines and had seen alot of the world, both good and bad. He was incredulous at my naiveity and stupidity. When I had finished the whole story, he looked at me and said: "You don't stand a chance with the whores of Paris!" Fortunately, I wasn't even going through Paris on my way to Aix-en-Provence. Besides, I was gaining a very rapid education in street smarts and by the grace of God, I survived my night in Fargo, North Dakota. It was on to New York City to meet sister Patsy and her husband Paul. The journey out of the United States was only rivalled by my jouney back 3 1/2 months later.