We're supposed to be on the 7:20 shuttle. We can't make it. I wake up just in time to call the Texas Workforce Commission in San Antonio and make my claim for unemployment. I call Gordon to tell him we're running late. It was a bad flight. Gary doesn't want to get up until the afternoon -- like 1PM or so -- he's exhausted. Gordon says he's already missed appointments -- it's 10AM in Portland. I get Gary moving. The whole Lodge is torn up by his rummaging about, taking his shower, getting ready to go. He swears he lost a t-shirt somewhere in the ordeal. Everyone's trying to find it for him. I convince the driver of the 11AM shuttle to pick us up at the back door of the lodge, because he can't breath strong enough to make it to the bus stop in time. Finally, at 11AM, we board the shuttle for the hospital.
The ride to the hospital is an adventure. Clearly, the driver's done this before. He negotiates freeways and the winding road to the hospital in break-neck speed. In fact, he's scary good. Gary thanks him for the wild ride and tells him he's a professional. In fact, he's a volunteer. It seems that the grand ole USA can't even pay bus drivers to get patients from one location to the other, and I notice that there are signs on the bus asking for volunteers.
We go to the 8th floor and meet Ann (highly recommended nurse-facilitator) and her assistant (award-winning admin) and they are upset at us for being late. A guy with a pony tail, whom I assume is Gordon Wells, said they have been looking for us. They end up sending us to the lab for blood tests. They tell us to do the blood tests, get something to eat, and return. We also go over some document about his blood and tissue being used for testing. He says he'd like to do anything that will help people who have this disease in the future, so he signs without reading -- I glance through it and it looks harmless, and the assistant says she will have a copy ready for us in the afternoon. If we don't like what it says, we can just undo it.
Unfortunately, the blood test is quite involved (27 vials of blood or so), and there's one of our Lodge-mates in front of us who has to do the same test -- and she seems to bleed slowly. We wait for over an hour to get his tests started. Finally, we get to the canteen around 3:15 and eat something I can't identify but reminds me of food we had in Cline's Corners NM about 12 years ago. We return to 8D at 4PM, and they act like we've been messing around. Gary gets a lecture about taking his Lactulose Solution. This is supposed to clear the ammonia from his brain and help him think better. It gives him diareahhahaa. He hates it. I can't blame him. He didn't take it yesterday because we were going to be in flight for so long.
Ann tells us that Gary's scheduled for a Chemo Embolization tomorrow. We have no real idea what that is, and they give some vague social-worker explaination about what they will do to him. We're supposed to be there on the first bus, check in on the 4th floor, and they will do the proceedure and keep him overnight on the 9th floor. I get Ann to give me a copy of the document we signed this morning. She seems surprised that I remembered. And she told him that his tests showed he was not sick enough to be admitted to the hospital. He thought she had the wrong results or something, because the platelette count she quoted was higher than he ever has had. At any rate, they sent us back to the Lodge.
We went downstairs and exited the hospital doors at exactly 4:30. The bus back to the Lodge should have been there, but... no bus. We waited. The last bus, we were told, leaves at 6:30. So we waited some more. We started to get cold. We didn't want to miss the last bus, so we waited outside. The gentleman at the front information desk had none (information, that is). Finally, at 6:20, the bus showed up and we got on board. A rowdy ride back, but this time I took notes on how to get from the hospital to the Lodge.
We were worried about the Chemo Embo thing and we talked about it -- at great length. We made a list of questions to ask. We decided to get mom to talk to Dr. Kahn back in Temple. Why couldn't they do the proceedure there? Why didn't they? They were going to do some kind of surgery at one point, but backed out because it was too dangerous. Was this the same thing? We didn't know.
We ate more of the chicken and potato salad from last night. Gary wanted Fritos with his food. I wanted a Diet Coke. I asked Roberto where there were snack machines. He gave me long and convoluted directions, and then offered me a Diet Coke. He gave me one of the Lemon ones that I hate. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I took it. Momentarily, I went down the long weird hallways to find the machines. I got Gary his Fritos and me my real DC. When I got back, Gary said he didn't eat Fritos, and that he asked for potato chips. I went out again and took the long walk to get him chips. I know he said Fritos.
I didn't feel like eating, but Gary insisted, so I ate some chicken and potato salad. Lights out at around 11 again, but Gary couldn't sleep.
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