Saturday
MargaretWe finally got a call from the transplant center yesterday evening about the afternoon’s labs.
Andrew’s blood tacrolimus levels (tacrolimus is the primary immunosuppressant drug) are within therapeutic levels so he can stop taking prednisone.
Prednisone is another immunosuppressant drug and since large doses of prednisone can also really mess with a diabetic’s blood glucose levels the fact that Andrew can stop taking it so soon after the transplant is freakin’ fantastic!
He seems to be tolerating the other medications fairly well so far.
I was awakened at a completely stupid hour this morning because the neighbor’s damn dogs were barking and continued to bark fairly consistently until about half an hour ago. A.K.A. early for a Saturday but not an entirely unreasonable hour. This upcoming week I plan on going down to city hall and speaking with someone in charge about those dogs. The neighbors have one tied to a tree in their back yard, the other one wanders free in the yard, and put out food in large volumes for them 2 or 3 times per week. Which means that my vegetable garden is absolutely ALIVE with rats who feast on dog food, dig up my potatoes, and gnaw on my bean plants, pumpkins, and corn stalks. And it means that the raccoons, opossums, and probably skunks that tiptoe in after dark to partake in their share of the feast wake the dogs who then bark at the intruders for hours at a time.
The dogs didn’t wake Andrew, for a wonder, but he didn’t sleep particularly well. The primary incision is oozing serum fairly constantly. The subcutaneous pressure of this ooze is uncomfortable enough to keep him awake, but not, apparently, uncomfortable enough for him to want to take a pain pill.
We’re both a little on the grouchy side this morning.