I must begin with a confession. I am here in defiance of doctors’ orders. Neither of those statements is entirely accurate or true. Perhaps, if I said I need to vent and I’m taking a risk that would make more sense. I’ll explain. Tuesday I was at MGH for a battery of tests. My bloodwork revealed some concerns. My Tacrolimus level was too high and my kidney function was a bit high. We adjusted the tac dose and I went back on Thursday morning for more blood. Tac was ok, but kidney function was higher. This was seemingly inexplicable because it’s been fine. So, I spoke with one of the NPs Thursday afternoon. She said the decision to go or not is ultimately up to me, but I’d be taking and assuming the risk due to my kidney function going in the wrong direction. I agreed to take the train to Boston again Friday morning for more bloodwork. The conversation stressed me out. My kidney function is going the wrong way and I’m about to go Europe for two weeks, and here she is warning me and ringing the alarm. Telling me how it’s ultimately up to me whether to even go or not, and that I assume the risk. I found her to be hysterical, frankly. I was not at ease, though. Friday morning, I went to MGH once again, the woman at the desk in the lab said weren’t you here yesterday. Sure was. And Tuesday. I had my blood drawn, and then hustled back to North Station to catch the 845 Wachusett train. Before I hopped on the train I grabbed a Boston Kreme donut from Dunkin’ to reward myself from the grief of this week.
When I arrived home just after 10, Salem was laying on the kitchen table by the window, as usual. The other cats were sleeping elsewhere, probably in the bedroom. My mother, who is staying with the boys while we’re gone was in the office working, and making her phone calls. I gathered Lysol wipes, hand sanitizers, toothbrush, and did some laundry as I waited for the results to come in and the phone to ring. At noon, the phone rang. This time it was one of the other NPs. She said the tac level was right where it needed to be, and the kidney function was lower than yesterday, but still too high. She was more reasonable about the situation though. The good news was that it was moving in the right direction and not continuing to rise. There was no dire warning this time. She said be careful and be mindful. My words, her sentiment. I had my own theory as to why kidney function was high. However, it was quickly dismissed. Amanda and my mother, who is a nurse, thought my theory made sense. I’ll skip it because I don’t want to make a federal case out of it, but who would know my body better than me though? Fucking know-it-alls.
The reality is that I was going despite any warnings. I feel fine. I have no symptoms. My judgement is sound. I follow my health guidelines strictly. I very rarely miss doses or treatments, and I don’t do anything I’m not supposed to regarding my health. Health is my number one priority, and I treat it that way. But, I didn’t sign up for a cushy, wimpy nerf life. You have to live your life, and I won’t let fear or potential catastrophe control me. I accept risks in life.This week’s adventures have raised the stakes a bit, so hopefully our European travels will be more exciting.
My mother drove us to the airport early because we desperately wanted to sleep on the overnight flight. We figured leaving plenty of time would keep stress low and avoid long check-in and security lines, and have time for a relaxing evening in terminal E. We can’t afford to lose time being jet-lagged or sleeping due to our busy itinerary.
No traffic or long lines, so we breezed right into the terminal. I had a brief moment of panic in the security line because I remembered that one of the tests Tuesday was on Nuclear Medicine, and involved breathing in radioactive gas, and I didn’t have the card they gave me that I was supposed to flash at government buildings. So, I quietly inched through the security line, imagining what could happen. I figured the worst-case scenario was they would sound an alarm and evacuate the airport then arrest me for being a walking bomb, and send me to a black site or Guantanamo. Fortunately, the Radon gas, or whatever I was breathing had a short half-life.
The flight was smooth, but neither of us slept satisfactorily, only bits and pieces here and there. Earlier in the day, my mother had warned me that she was cold on her last flight and to bring a sweatshirt. I laughed, and said I had never been cold on a plane in my life. Welp, I was freezing my dick off right after takeoff, and shivering during the landing. Our plane was delayed coming from London because of high winds, which we felt on the landing. The wind has been fierce all day. We took an hour taxi from Heathrow to our hotel, the CitizenM Tower of London. When we got to the hotel, it was too early to check-in, so we left our luggage, and went to get something to eat. The hotel is located across the street from the Tower of London, so it’s really convenient. I checked Yelp for a place to eat brunch while Amanda changed her clothes. We went to Byward Kitchen and Bar a block away. We had English breakfasts. I’m forcing Amanda to try black pudding, or blood sausage, if you prefer that term, during this trip, but this one wasn’t very good, so I elected to eat it all myself. There’s probably only going to be one shot at this, so I’m waiting for a good one. May have to wait until Sneem.
After brunch, We went back to check-in. European hotel rooms are generally smaller, but this room is micro-sized.You’d think we were staying in Tokyo. It’s the smallest room I’ve ever stayed in, but it’s loaded with features, conveniences, and efficiency. There’s no privacy in the bathroom, so I made Amanda go print out the Tower of London tickets to give me some privacy. I like to be alone with my poop sound reverberations.
We figured we’d power through the day, so we could get on a regular schedule. We explored the Tower of London, which is a castle and fortress nearly 1,000 years old. This is Amanda’s first time in Europe, by the way, and her number one thing to do was go here. That’s only because she hasn’t tried black pudding yet. It’s probably been twenty years since I’ve been to the Tower, not much has changed. I asked her what she liked about it. She said seeing how small the rooms were, walking the battlements and seeing the views of the Thames and Tower Bridge, meeting people from Boston who saw my Patriots shirt, and laughing at the guy who offered to take our photo. She also liked seeing the memorial to Anne Boelyn and Henry VIII’s wives - the site where they had been beheaded (two of them, two others he divorced, one died in childbirth, and his last out-lived him, I think). The memorial is new since the last time I was there. It used to be just a simple sign and maybe a placard. Now, it is an exquisite display. There was a massive line of people to see to crown jewels. I don’t get it, but whatever.
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| Line to see crown jewels |
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| Traitor's Gate |
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| Tower Raven |
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| Nice Cannons |
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| White Tower |
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| Tower Bridge |
We had a brief rest after exploring, but needed to have dinner, I browsed and found a suitable Indian restaurant near St. Katherine’s docks. Outstanding meal. We had lamb kebabs, chicken tikka masala, and garlic naan bread. After dinner, we were ready to crash. My jet-lagged brain definitely required a rest.
Amanda served as my muse.
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| St. Katherine's Docks |
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| Mala |
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| Head Bitch in Charge |
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