I’m home from the Brigham after six days in the hospital for lung-transplant evaluation. I survived all the tests they could throw at me, ranging from neuropsych to colonoscopy to arterial catheterization… to trying to sleep in a hospital room with lights going on and off all the time, and beep! beep! beep!  As far as I can tell, I passed all the tests, with the exception of getting a decent night’s sleep. That one I failed. The only test outstanding is an esophageal swallowing test, which they had trouble scheduling. I scheduled it myself after I got home. Also, I need to meet with a surgeon. When those are done, The Committee will meet to decide my fate—i.e., whether I get listed for a lung transplant, and what ranking.

There was a contingent of docs that wanted me to stay in the hospital through it all, right up through actually getting a lung (or two). Their reasoning was that I could suddenly go downhill at any time (an exacerbation, they call it), and become acute. While acknowledging that risk, I declined to stay, on the grounds that sitting in a hospital doing nothing is a terrible way to stay healthy, and that I would be safer, healthier, and in a better mental state at home where I can exercise, do my work, and live life. And not wear out my support team before anything has even happened.

I am hopeful about getting listed and about having the operation. It’s a daunting prospect, most daunting of all (in my mind) a lifetime of immunosuppression to avoid rejection. I like my healthy immune system. But those are the breaks. I like even better the thought of breathing freely, and no more oxygen machines. I credit folks on various support groups who have enthusiastically embraced their lung-transplant experiences for turning me around on this. Thanks, guys.

I’m ready. Bring it on.

What look? It’s the only one I’ve got.