Another day, another lesson

This one has nothing to do with Bernie. Over the last few days, I’ve seen a rather dramatic downward slide in my FEV1 (Forced Expulsion Volume).That’s the measure of my lung function I take each morning.

Nothing else is awry. My temperature this morning was 96.9, blood pressure 111/65 and heart rate 59. As usual, Bernie (okay, he’s involved, but he’s never more than a pounce away) and I walked a mile before breakfast and I wasn’t winded at all.

Still, when the FEV1 drops, something’s up.

It could have to do with my recent late night stay in the hospital at my mother’s side. Or one of the other non-recommended activities this old blockhead tends to engage in without a mask; going out to lunch, grocery shopping, etc. Or a slowdown in the number of times I use Purell to sanitize my hands when I’m out or even at home. With my immune system compromised, I could have picked up a bug doing any of those things.

It could also have to do with a misunderstanding we’ve since corrected on the daily dosage of Prograf, one of the immunosuppressant medications I take. Or it could be just a rejection hiccup in the struggle of my body to throw out this intruder which most transplant recipients experience at least once in their post-op lives.

Whatever it is, we’ll soon know. Harriet and I are on are way to Shands early tomorrow morning where I’m going to have a bronchoscopy – that neat thing where they sick a camera down your throat into your lungs while you're asleep. When we find out what’s going on, so will you.

Oh, I almost forget to include the lesson. Never get too confident.