I have heard that question countless
times over the decades, and more frequently as my health has declined in recent
years. Each time I secretly gritted my teeth and reminded myself that most
people are nowhere near as familiar with pulmonary disease as I am before trying
to answer calmly. So I figured I should give a public answer to the question on
so many people’s minds: Why doesn’t she get a lung transplant?
Short answer: Because it could kill
me.
Long answer: All transplants are
complicated, and lung transplants particularly so. CF patients always require
double lung transplants, because both our lungs are so heavily impacted and full
of infection that a single lung or partial lobe transplant is basically
worthless. Statistically, close to 90% of lung transplant recipients survive the
first year post-transplant, but that number drops to about 50-60% for
surviving 5 years post-transplant. They aren’t going to consider a transplant
until you’re already running out of time, because there’s a significant chance
that the transplant itself could end up shortening your life.
Then you have to be lucky enough to actually
get a transplant. You can’t exactly walk into Lungs-R-Us and grab a pair, and
people tend to need their lungs while they’re still alive, which means we’re dependent
on lungs from deceased donors. And that donor needs to match on several
different criteria, the lungs need to be healthy and undamaged, and the donor
needs to be within a certain geographic area as organs can only travel so far.
Being listed doesn’t guarantee if or when you will receive lungs, and some
people unfortunately die while waiting.
Once you get a transplant, the
complications begin. The surgery itself is long, grueling, and dangerous, and
is followed by a lengthy and complex recovery period. If all that goes well,
then it’s time to adjust to your new life as a transplant recipient. That includes
a lifetime of immunosuppressive drugs to prevent your immune system from rejecting the
foreign organ in your body, which means massive lifestyle changes to avoid the infections
that your weakened immune system can no longer fight off. This is particularly
tricky with the lungs, the only transplant organ that is constantly exposed to
the outside environment and all its contaminants with every breath you take. And
even with all your best efforts, you will still likely experience and need to
be treated for some form of rejection. There is an endless array of potential
post-transplant complications, many of which can be fatal.
Is it worth it? If it goes well, yes.
It’s basically trading one chronic illness for another, but at least in this
one there’s a chance you might be able to breathe and possibly even function as
a mostly-normal person. But it’s definitely not worth trying while you still
have a fair amount of life and normal(ish)-person-ness left in you.
All that being said…
On Monday, my doctors shocked me by
saying they wanted to start the process of getting me on the transplant list. I
thought my lung function needed to be lower and that I had more time, but the
fact that I’ve been having such frequent, severe, lengthy CF exacerbations that
have been so minimally responsive to treatment makes me eligible. They’re also
very concerned about the fact that we’re almost out of antibiotics that are at
all effective against my pseudomonas infection. I’m running out of time more
quickly than expected, and they want to pursue this option while I’m still
healthy enough to have a greater chance of coming through it successfully.
This week has been a crazy whirlwind
of testing and consults. Today the transplant team met and determined that, as
long as the last few tests go well, I am a candidate for lung transplant. They
have not yet decided whether or not to list me immediately, as they want to see
how I respond to one last antibiotic. If it goes well, we may hold off a few
more months. If, as I expect, it doesn’t have a significant impact, then they
will likely list me immediately. And apparently HUP is a high volume transplant
center, so the expected wait time once listed is only 3-4 months. Basically, by
this time next year, it’s expected that I will be post-transplant.
It’s been a wild ride of a week. I’ve
definitely been stunned and terrified, but at the same time I’m also relieved.
The last 5 months have been pretty terrible, and the thought of slogging
through a few more years like this was kind of horrifying. I was beginning to
lose my will to fight, as I’ve been working so hard yet seeing almost no return.
Things were starting to feel kind of hopeless and pointless, as I was spending so
much time just surviving and very little time actually living. I honestly wasn’t
sure how much longer I could keep going on like this. So as much as transplant
is terrifying, it has also revitalized my will to fight, because at least now I
have a goal and a chance of things being better. I can do grueling, I can keep hanging
on by my fingernails, as long as I know that this fight won’t be forever and might
actually accomplish something.
I’m very tired. And I’m definitely
not looking forward to the trials coming my way. But I’m also not done quite yet.
Bring it, CF! You still haven’t gotten the best of me!
Much to my surprise, I got a call
Thursday morning saying that they DID have a room for me and could do a direct
admission! Even the nurse was shocked, as it has been almost impossible for
them to direct admit anyone recently. I was SO relieved not to have to spend
hours waiting in the ER, and I fully attribute this blatant miracle to the
power of Purim! Even better, they didn’t call me to come in until about 4pm, so
I got to enjoy a full Purim seuda without interruption. Celebrating Purim
before going inpatient definitely helped put me in a better frame of mind. I
also realized that getting mishloach manot immediately before being
hospitalized was absolutely perfect. Instead of going shopping for hospital snacks,
I just waited at home and the snacks came to me! Winning!
We did a CT scan, and fortunately I DON’T
have a pulmonary embolism. Unfortunately, I once again managed to develop
pneumonia while on IV antibiotics, because I am super talented. This time I
decided to take it to the next level and get pneumonia in BOTH lungs, because I’m
an overachiever. If you’re gonna do something, may as well do it right!
There’s no way to tell whether the
pneumonia is due to infection or due to aspirating reflux in my sleep, so we’re
tackling both at the same time. On Monday I’m hopefully having my G-tube
changed to a G/J-tube, which is less likely to cause reflux overnight. In terms
of infection, the original plan was to continue IV antibiotics, as well as a whole
lot of nebulizers and chest PT, and see if I had any improvement by Monday. If
I didn’t improve, the plan was to start treatment for the NTM (non-tuberculosis
mycobacterium) that’s been showing up in my sputum in recent months. The
problem is that requires 3-6 months on multiple antibiotics, one of which is IV
Tobramycin, the antibiotic that gave me tinnitus and can cause hearing loss. I REALLY
wasn’t thrilled about having to choose whether I wanted to breathe or whether I
wanted to hear. HOWEVER, on Sunday they got some new test results back, and
discovered that my pseudomonas infection is now resistant to 2 of the 3 antibiotics
I’ve been taking. Surprise! They also found one more antibiotic that it should
be susceptible to, so the new plan is to try that for a week and see if I feel
any better. I’m all for anything that pushes off going back on Tobramycin!
It was a pretty rough weekend.
Between coughing, fevers, being poked and prodded at all hours, and just
generally feeling gross and uncomfortable, sleep hasn’t been happening on any
sort of regular basis. Additionally, I have been coughing up A LOT of mucus.
Getting it out is definitely a good thing, but it isn’t coming out easily, and
the whole process has been exhausting. My throat is ragged from all the
coughing, and I’m having trouble sleeping because I keep waking up choking on
mucus. I’m not exactly living my best life right now, but hopefully the new
antibiotic will help and things will pick up soon.
I’ve also been doing vlogs of my
hospital adventures if anyone is interested in a slightly different version of
these health updates. If you subscribe to my YouTube channel and click the
notification bell, you’ll get alerts when a new post goes up. Let me know what
you think!
I’m convinced my lungs looked at a
calendar and are trying to make sure they hit every Jewish holiday.
Last week I did feel the tiniest bit
better, even though it wasn’t anything to write home about. Sunday, however, I
inexplicably started feeling worse. I hoped it was just a weird random bad day,
but since then my oxygen has been dropping, I’ve been incredibly short of
breath, and I’ve gotten significantly more congested. I was supposed to have a
follow up appointment next week, but I emailed my doctor and they told me to
come in today instead. They also mentioned that I might need to be
hospitalized.
I felt pretty defeated yesterday.
Hospital was NOT the word I wanted to hear, particularly since my last
hospitalization was so long and brought so little improvement. It’s extremely frustrating
to once again end up feeling WORSE while on IV antibiotics instead of getting better.
It’s also scary, because we keep trying different treatments, and keep not seeing
any significant improvement. It’s really hard to keep fighting when you never
seem to get a win.
My lung function numbers ended up
being even worse than I expected. Somehow over the course of a week, while on
IV antibiotics, I managed to drop from 48% to 42%. At that point I knew there
was no way out of being hospitalized, but I did ask my doctor what they can accomplish
in the hospital that we haven’t already tried at home. She pointed out that in
the hospital they have full access to all kinds of testing and other diagnostic
procedures to help figure out what’s going on, and that it’s much easier for
them to make quick medication adjustments and try different treatments. They tried
to admit me directly from clinic, but there were no beds available. The only other
way to get admitted was through the ER, but thankfully they had mercy on me and
told me to go home and enjoy Purim instead. They’ll try to direct admit me
again tomorrow, and if they’re still unsuccessful I’ll start yet another ER
adventure after I finish my Purim seuda.
They really don’t know why my health
has been so poor and why I’ve been so unresponsive to treatment. It feels like
we keep throwing darts hoping to hit a target, except I think we might also be
throwing the darts while blindfolded. We tried an antifungal and got rid of the
fungal infections, we tried an antibiotic and got rid of the MRSA, we tried IV
antibiotics to treat the pseudomonas… and yet, I’m still getting worse. So now
we’re trying to figure out what is it that we’re NOT treating that could be
causing these problems. There are currently 2 top contenders. One possibility
is a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in the lungs. We actually tried to
schedule a CT scan today to rule that out, but my lovely insurance is dragging
their heels in approving it, so I guess they’ll just have to pay for it in the hospital
instead. The other possibility is aspiration pneumonia. Even with medication I
have terrible reflux, and they’re concerned that I might be inhaling reflux in
my sleep since I use a feeding tube overnight for extra nutrition and hydration.
We’ve explored surgery to combat the reflux, but my health hasn’t been stable
enough to move forward with it. However, one thing we can do is change my G-tube
to a G/J-tube. A G-tube pumps the supplement directly into my stomach, whereas
a J-tube would bypass the stomach and pump it into my intestines. This could
reduce overnight reflux issues, and apparently is a very easy change to make.
So that will probably happen while I’m inpatient.
I didn’t have the energy or brain
power to pull together a Purim costume, but fortunately I did have an unused
super fun hat stashed away in my closet. And when I pulled it out I discovered
that it also came with a tail, so that was an exciting bonus! I made it to shul
for megillah reading tonight, and tomorrow I plan to go to shul again before joining
Martelle and her family for an early seuda. At least I have the chance to get
my Purim on before embarking on the next round of medical drama!
After megillah reading, Sarah
Bienenfeld reminded me that Purim is the time of v’nahafoch hu, of things
turning around, and of sudden unexpected salvation. Hopefully this hospitalization
will be fueled by the power of Purim and I’ll see my own v’nahafoch hu soon!
I have both a written response as
well as a long YouTube reaction video. There’s some overlap between them, but
they are not exactly the same. Both responses, however, are FULL of spoilers,
so if you haven’t seen the movie and don’t want to be spoiled, steer clear of
this post!
Well, I did it. I saw Five Feet
Apart.
I went into it unsure to what degree
I was going to be a nitpicky pest, and to what degree I was going to be
completely traumatized. I was actually expecting to fall more on the traumatized
side, since I was pretty traumatized just watching the girl huff and puff
around with her oxygen tank in The Fault in Our Stars, and she didn’t even have
CF. But I went anyway, because I really wanted to be able to have an informed
opinion.
I figured it might be easier and/or
more fun to do this with a crew, so Katherine and I met my mom and some friends
at the theater and we had our own little watch party. I also knew the chances
of encountering another CF patient in the theater was highly likely, thus
raising our cross infection risks, which I thought was hilariously ironic
considering that cross infection is the basis of the entire movie. So I
committed to being a full on freak by not only wearing a mask and using hand
sanitizer, but also literally spraying down my chair with Lysol. I then
unintentionally upped the freak factor due to my lungs taking an unexpected
vacation that day. I was struggling to maintain my oxygen level even while using
the oxygen concentrator, so I got to slowly and painfully drag my way up the
stairs and collapse gasping into my theater seat. If there is a single person
in that theater who did not realize that I have CF, it absolutely is not my
fault. I promise I did my very best to look the part.
There were definitely things that
they really got right. The various treatments and procedures that we deal with
and the intensity of the standard CF regimen was absolutely accurate. Moving
into your hospital room and making it home, as well as the feeling of missing
out on life experiences due to illness and hospitalizations, were absolutely
things I could identify with. Some of the emotional struggles did hit home for
me: the way your health struggles impact your loved ones, being afraid to
expose the people you love to the misery that you go through, struggling to
find a balance between living your life versus trying to stay alive… Those were
the moments when it was very sobering to see some of my own thoughts and
experiences playing out on screen. And of course, the struggle of being emotionally
close with someone who you’re never allowed to be physically close to is a
harsh reality of CF. I know the feeling of literally talking to a friend through
glass because that was the closest we could get to each other. It’s extremely
frustrating to be unable to hang out with the people who understand you the
most because you could literally kill each other. I’m grateful that by the time
they realized the risks of cross infection and started keeping CF patients away
from each other, the internet was becoming a thing and I was able to make some connections
that way. But still, nothing will ever be able to replace in-person contact.
Given all that, however, I ended up
leaving the movie feeling pretty meh. Part of the problem is that there were a
lot of inaccuracies throughout the movie, and they kept destroying my immersion
and impeding my connection to the story. For example, one of my pet peeves is
when characters in TV and movies run around on supplemental oxygen like it’s
nothing. I wish I could get my hands on one of those magical movie oxygen
concentrators that instantly turn you into a fully functional human being! But
alas, using supplemental oxygen does not suddenly solve all your problems. Needing
supplemental oxygen means that your lungs are really struggling to do basic
lung tasks, so you’ll still be moving at least a little slower and at times
will continue to be varying degrees of out of breath. Like I said, I gasped my
way up the stairs and into my seat, and it took several minutes for me to stop
feeling like I was suffocating, even WITH supplemental oxygen. It drives me
crazy when characters run around with their oxygen without a care in the world,
because it is SUCH an easy fix! Just slow down a little, breathe a little
heavier, and recognize that your character will have more limited stamina and
endurance. I was VERY surprised to see that even this movie fell into the
magical oxygen concentrator trap, and it kept pulling me out of the story.
Additionally, for someone who was
supposed to be on the verge of lung transplant, Stella did not appear anywhere
near sick enough. I was pretty shocked when they got the new lungs call,
because until then I wasn’t even sure she was on the transplant list, and if
she was I assumed she was way further down. One of the factors for where you
fall on the transplant list, in addition to factors like geography (organs can
only travel so far) and blood type, is how sick you are. The sickest people go
to the top of the list, because their need is more immediate and they are more
likely to die without it. By the time you hit the top of the lung transplant
list, you are in BAD shape. Whereas Stella actually seemed to be doing better
than I am, and I’m not even close to being listed yet. It’s kind of funny to
think that all the viewers who are unfamiliar with CF probably think Stella
seemed horribly, desperately ill, while I’m sitting here like meh, I’ve seen
worse. Welcome to Cystic Fibrosis!
Of course there were silly things
like the incredibly luxurious hospital with shockingly lax regulations, but I
could mostly overlook that. I wish there had been more trademark CF coughing –
I definitely coughed more during the movie than either of the actors – but that’s
also a minor nitpick. I spent a great deal of the movie being HIGHLY ANXIOUS
about their lack of masks (PLEASE STOP YOU’RE GONNA KILL EACH OTHER MY HEART
CAN’T TAKE THIS AAAAAH!), but I can definitely see people playing fast and loose
when it comes to contact precautions even if they shouldn’t. Hell, I’ve had my
own fair share of flagrantly breaking the rules when I was young and dumb(er).
The truth is, I could mostly overlook all the inaccuracies I’ve mentioned so
far, and I did for most of the movie. For about the first two thirds of the
movie, my general impression was that they really got some things right, that
they did ok with a bunch of other stuff, and that the movie wasn’t great but it
was passable.
And then things went off the rails.
First there was Poe. I’m not a heartless
monster, I cried, it was super sad! But, it was also unrealistic, which once
again took me out of the story. It is not typical for CF patients to suddenly
drop dead out of nowhere, particularly not from a pneumothorax. Pneumothorax
means collapsed lung, and that actually is something that can happen to CF patients
out of nowhere. However, it’s typically either one lung or a part of one lung,
and it’s not an instant death sentence. People can actually walk around for
days not realizing that’s the reason for all their pain and misery before
getting treatment. As far as I know, a spontaneous full double lung collapse is
EXTREMELY unlikely. But in addition to that, in general Cystic Fibrosis is not
a quick killer. Dying from CF is a long, slow, agonizing process for everyone involved.
You won’t know exactly when the person is going to die, you may not expect it
that very day, but you will very much know that death is a possibility and that
it’s coming sooner than later. The more I thought about Poe’s death, the
angrier I got, because it took the very real pain and fear of watching our
friends die and turned it into cheap Hollywood drama to propel the story while
wringing more tears out of the audience. So many of us have watched friends
die. I’ve watched friends die. It’s a unique sort of excruciating to watch
someone you care about die from the thing that will probably eventually kill
you too. It’s impossible to describe the pain and fear of seeing your own
future played out before your eyes while losing a friend in the process. But all
that agony was overlooked for one cheap moment of sudden, unexpected drama. I’m
not okay with that. That’s the one part of the movie that actually ended up
offending me.
And then, of course, the ice scene.
That was the point at which the drama was just too unnecessarily over the top and
pretty much ruined the movie for me. First of all, again, no way patients at
that stage of lung disease are walking two miles, up a hill, on a cold snowy
night. But from that point on the drama was just non-stop: She’s getting new
lungs! She’s ignoring the call, even though up until this moment she was all
about new lungs! She’s falling off the bridge! Oh wait, she’s fine – OH WAIT,
she’s not, the ice broke and she’s drowning! He can’t get her out! He CAN get
her out, but she’s not breathing, and he has to break all the cross infection
protocols to give her mouth to mouth! It didn’t work – wait, it DID work! But
now HE’S dead! Oh wait, no he isn’t. Quick, rush everyone back and get that
lung transplant!!
Too. Damn. Much. Even the teenage
girls sitting behind me were groaning. When even teenage girls think something is
over the top, you’ve DEFINITELY gone too far.
So that was my breaking point. I
could have overlooked and forgiven a lot until then, but once they went full on
off the rails rapid fire gratuitous Hollywood drama, I was done. And sadly,
that then colored my impression of the rest of the movie, and only made all the
previous inaccuracies stand out even more.
For me, the part that makes it all so
frustrating is that they were so close. They did get so many things right, and
they really did try. It would only have taken a few tweaks to save things. I
can see the possibility in there for a great story that just didn’t quite
manifest, and I find that even more upsetting than if it had been awful from
beginning to end. I’m disappointed precisely BECAUSE they tried so hard and
came so close. From what I've heard, everyone involved in the movie did
genuinely have a great deal of respect for the CF community and wanted to do us
justice. I have no ill will towards any of them! I just wish they had hit the
mark more.
I know there are many other CFers who
did connect to this movie and feel represented by it, and I’m genuinely happy
for them! I don’t begrudge anyone their opinion, and I actually would love to talk
to CFers who enjoyed the movie and hear why it worked for them and what they
gained from it. It’s also entirely possible that I’m just a cranky curmudgeon
who’s too old and cynical for teenage romance dramas, and that the movie was perfect
for its target demographic. I hope it does raise the awareness that some people
are expecting and brings CF more into mainstream consciousness. If it accomplishes
that, I can forgive all its flaws and drama and disappointment.
Well, after months of pondering and friendly
nagging, I’m finally making my YouTube debut. I have no idea where I’m going
with this or how often I’ll post anything, but the first video is officially
up. Feel free to share and comment on the video and give me those sweet sweet
likes and views!
Welp, I managed to regain a whole 1%
in lung function. Go me.
I am feeling a little better. My
oxygen has been a little more stable and my heart rate hasn’t been going quite
as high with exertion, though I do still need some supplemental oxygen when I’m
out and about. I’ve also been a little less congested. Overall though the gains
haven’t been too significant, so much to my disappointment my doctor wants to
try one more week of IV antibiotics. Thankfully, however, we’re stopping the
Zosyn and switching me back to Zerbaxa, aka the Fancy Restricted Antibiotic.
This is so that I can get a LITTLE more sleep, since Zosyn is run every 6 hours,
whereas Zerbaxa is run every 8 hours. I’ve been an utterly sleep deprived zombie
these last couple weeks, so at this point I’ll take whatever I can get! I feel
like a cat these days: I don’t actually sleep anymore, I just take naps of varying
lengths at various points throughout the day. I think cats enjoy this more than
I do though!
On the plus side, my last sputum
culture did NOT show MRSA or either of the two fungal infections that popped up
previously. Unfortunately, that hasn’t actually translated into any real improvement
in my health. If I don’t see any real improvement with another week of IV antibiotics,
we’re going to move on to treating the other infection that has been cropping
up lately in my sputum cultures: mycobacterium chelonae, a nontuberculosis
mycobacterium (aka NTM). We haven’t treated it until now because it’s unclear
whether the NTM is actually the source of any of my symptoms, and treating it
requires taking multiple antibiotics for a very extended period of time. Apparently
it can also be difficult to get approval for some of the medications involved.
And, one of the meds used to treat it is Tobramycin, the IV antibiotic which
gave me tinnitus and can cause hearing loss. We’re exploring whether I can take
the Tobra via nebulizer, which has less risk of causing hearing issues, but unfortunately
in the past the nebulizer formulation of Tobra (called TOBI) gave me asthma
attacks. I’ve asked whether we can try giving me the IV version of Tobra to
inhale, which is what I did for years without any problems before TOBI was
developed. It’s unclear however whether we’ll be able to get approval for an
off-brand use of injectable Tobra since a nebulizer version is available.
The other main goal now is getting me
to be a little more active. I’ve been feeling sort of awful both physically and
mentally, which has led to me spending a LOT of time moping on the couch. I’m
trying to pull myself together and leave the house a little more, even if only
briefly, and to do brief, mild exercise at home a few times a day. I’m
obviously not running any marathons, but whatever exercise I can manage is good
for both my physical and mental health. I just need to be careful about not
pushing my heart rate too high, as unfortunately the “leaky pipes” have still
been an issue. Thankfully I haven’t had a full bleed in two and a half weeks,
but I’ve been having varying degrees of bloody mucus at least once a week all
month. I’m trying really hard to avoid anything that could trigger a full
bleed, as that would force me to hold various treatments and prevent me from
clearing mucus out of my lungs. On the other hand, I do need to exercise,
because not exercising is also detrimental to my lungs as well as the rest of
my body. It’s a really fun catch-22.
It has been a really, really
difficult winter. Hopefully things will start looking up soon.
We’ve already started the process to
try to access the triple combo before it gets FDA approval. The first step is
for a doctor to reach out to the drug manufacturer, Vertex, and find out
whether they are willing to provide the drug. If they are, the doctor then
submits an application to the FDA for Individual Patient Expanded Access, which
allows patients with an immediately life threatening or serious condition with
no other alternative therapies to access investigational treatments. If the FDA
approves it, presumably we then try to convince my insurance company to pay for
it.
My doctor has already contacted
Vertex. However, there’s a hitch: Vertex is not offering expanded access for the
triple combo yet. They are currently studying 2 different triple combo treatments,
and will only move forward with one of them based on the study results. They
won’t provide expanded access until they choose which drug they’re submitting
for FDA approval, which could take a few more months.
So now it’s a waiting game. Here’s
hoping they finish up the studies and make a decision soon!!
For those who don't know, there's a Fault in Our Stars style teen romance drama coming out next Wednesday about CF patients. I plan to go see it and nitpick, or be traumatized, or possibly both, and thought it might be fun to do so with a group. I'll probably go to the AMC Loews in Cherry Hill on a Sunday (since unlike me most people have, like, jobs and responsibilities and stuff). I also plan to wear a mask and spray Lysol on my seat, because ironically for a movie that is based on the risks of cross infection, the chances of multiple CF patients being in the same room and cross infecting each other is pretty darn high. Anyways, anyone wanna join me?
Two weeks ago my lung function was
down to 45%. Last week I managed to pull it back up to… 47%. Yay.
So we moved on to Phase 2: IV
antibiotics. Unfortunately, my most recent test results showed resistance to even
more antibiotics, which partially explains the disaster in November. I’m pretty
much down to Amikacin/Gentamicin/Tobramycin (all the same antibiotic class) and
Zosyn when it comes to treating my chronic pseudomonas infection. The first 3 all
have the potential to cause hearing problems, and we already know that Tobramycin
gives me tinnitus (ringing in the ears), but the last time I took Amikacin it
didn’t make the tinnitus worse so we’re trying that along with Zosyn. Unfortunately
for me, Zosyn has to be infused every 6 hours, and it comes in bags that have
to be hung from an IV pole instead of in the clever little self-infusing medi-balls
that I usually get. So over the next couple weeks I won’t be getting much sleep
and will be spending a lot of time chained to an IV pole. Sigh. Also, I’ve
never taken Zosyn before, so here’s hoping it doesn’t turn out to be the next
medication that I’m allergic to.
By the way, it only took a full week
and doubling my dose of Prednisone, but the Vancomycin rash FINALLY faded.
Everyone was quite impressed with its unusual stubbornness. Apparently my body
REALLY doesn’t like Vancomycin.
In other news, after trying for the
last 3 months, I finally managed to fail a walk test at clinic. This is
actually a good thing! The last 2 times my oxygen dropped to juuuust above the insurance
cutoff for in-home supplemental oxygen. I’ve been EXTREMELY grateful to the
kind gentleman who gave me his old portable oxygen concentrator in December!
There have been many times in recent months when I did need supplemental
oxygen, but we just couldn’t get the required test results to justify it to the
insurance company. Now I’ll be able to get an in-home concentrator that can
provide a continuous flow of oxygen, as opposed to the portable concentrator that
gives a puff of oxygen every time you breathe in. I tried to use the portable
concentrator overnight once, but I couldn’t sleep with it because of the noise
and the air puffing into my nose. A continuous flow concentrator will allow me
to use oxygen overnight, hopefully giving my body a bit a of break and allowing
me to get more restful sleep.
I also asked my team if there was any
possibility of getting early access to Vertex’s “triple combo,” the new CF drug
that’s on the verge of being released. They’re going to try, but told me not to
get my hopes up, as they’ve not yet managed to get insurance approval for other
patients in similar situations. And unfortunately, paying out of pocket really
isn’t an option, because these drugs are OUTRAGEOUSLY expensive. The previous
Vertex CF drug, Symdeko, costs $292,000 per year, and I expect the new drug to
cost at least that much. So I’m not expecting anything, but who knows, maybe
I’ll be the one in a million that actually gets insurance approval. Here’s
hoping!