Due to a family emergency we will be traveling to Los Angeles this weekend.

Of course the last day or so has been filled with running around trying to get things in order to travel. With that came the ordeal of trying to organize some last minute dialysis.

I have to say that the good folks at Eaton Canyon Dialysis Clinic in Pasadena have come through once again. I called and spoke to their social worker (Lewie I believe?) and had a workable time on the day I needed within an hour or so.

Yesterday I had contacted the Hollywood DaVita unit, and they too were more than willing to help me out in my emergency (Thank you Shelly!). Ultimately I had to opt for the Pasadena clinic due to scheduling conflicts.

To make a long story short:

Thank you DaVita for working with me, and for making it simple (for the first time ever) for me to travel.

You really came through when I needed you to, so Thank You.

Thank also to the two social workers (Lewie and Shelly) who went out of their way today and yesterday to make things happen. For all the griping I do about social workers, you two really jumped through some hoops and made it happen - Thank You

So what’s the big deal with LA anyway? We get here expecting to see Tom Hanks on every street corner, and instead see a bunch of people trying SO HARD to be something they’re not. It started to get ridiculous after awhile.
After trying in vein to see stars in two separate locations (what… are they hiding under rocks?!) we decided to go get some food at a place called Canter’s. Mind you, I was traveling around with a couple of people local to the area, and was told that we absolutely had to eat at this place.

So we walk in, and are quickly ushered to a table. I think I saw 37 Sidekicks on the way to our table, and multiple instances of people wearing both thongs (you may call them flip-flops), and beanies. We finally sit down and take a look at our giant menus. Meanwhile a woman named “Fran” comes by to take our order. It must have been obvious that we were not from the area because everything we said translated directly into laughter on Fran’s part. And not the kind of laughter that communicates “gee… you outta towners are cute!” Rather it was the type of laughter that is forced, and amplified to say “you sir, are foolish.”
For example, my mother in-law was trying to order some soup, and couldn’t get a straight answer as to whether the vegetable soup listed in the menu was a cup, or a bowl. Fran looked incredulous as we asked this inane question. After several attempts yielding no result, Masha (my mother in-law) finally said “surprise me.”
Fran burst into laughter and walked away continuing to laugh and shake her head while muttering something under her breath.
Of course I don’t respond well to such things. Everyone with me seemed to think it was funny, and shook it off. I of course couldn’t get over the fact that not only were we about to pay for such service, we were most likely going to tip - and in doing so give an extra “vote” for the appropriateness of said behavior.

After all of that though, I do have to say that the pickles we were served with our meal (you get them by the plate full here) were awesome. And if you know me, you know I love a good pickle. This was the one redeeming quality of Canter’s - not the unaesthetic repetitive aspen tree image on the ceiling, not the ugly nagahyde booths, and not the grouchy wait staff. No, it was the pickles.
Should I find myself walking down Fairfax again in the future, I might stop in to eat there - I just hope I don’t end up with Fran.

As you may already know Anna and I are traveling to L.A. next week. I wrote a bit the other day about the “fun” of arranging dialysis at another clinic.
I was informed yesterday that they aren’t going to allow me to buttonhole there, because they aren’t familiar with the technique, and don’t want to risk any “complications”. This confused me - they don’t seem to understand what the buttonhole technique is.
Today the fun ensued with the following discussion between the clinic’s social worker and I regarding me putting myself on:

me: “I understand your F.A. informed ours that I can’t buttonhole in your clinic - I just wanted to make sure that I’ll still be able to self cannulate.”

social worker: “Yeah, about that … we’re going to put you on like a normal patient, and just use your fistula.”

me: “Right, but I self cannulate, and wanted to make sure that’s ok.”

social worker: “Yeah, well since we’re not familiar with that we’re going to just use your fistula.”

me: “I don’t think you understand what I’m talking about - self cannulating means I put in my own needles, I will still be using my fistula.”

social worker: “Oh, well that shouldn’t be a problem.”

First of all, I can’t comprehend that another clinic in the DaVita network hasn’t even heard of the buttonhole technique. I don’t understand how it’s possible that you can work in this industry, and operate a clinic without even having heard of a technique used around the world for the last 25 years. To not understand the word “cannulate” seems over the top to me.

Needless to say I’m a bit apprehensive at this point.

Let’s hope everything goes well, and that they actually let me stick myself - preferably with buttonhole needles.

Until next time…

We’re traveling to California next week, so my apologies ahead of time if you don’t see anything for a week or so.

As always, any trip must first be arranged weeks in advance - to coordinate between the dialysis clinics, and make sure all the paperwork is in order. You’d think that since these companies are by and large ‘for profit’ entities, they’d have a “come as you please and dialyze” service. Nothing like that quite exists yet.
So to take a trip, you must first find a clinic where you’re going, then make sure they even accept traveling patients. If they do, you move to the next step - coordinating schedules, faxing patient histories, Dr’s orders, etc. This can be a bit of a pain, and sometimes it seems as if the whole process is very delicately balanced.
You sort of just wait for the bottom to fall out. Not once have I traveled and had everything go as it was supposed to. This is of course to be expected, we are playing the game of Life after all. But leaving home and not being certain that the arrangements for dialysis will be in place before you get there is a bit disconcerting.

More than two weeks ago I set the ball in motion. I even did the leg work - I found the clinic, called them, checked their schedule, (actually Anna found the clinic, but still…). The social workers then should communicate with each other, and figure out all of the particulars. Everything seemed to be going smoothly - orders were faxed, calls were made, questions asked. I should have known better. On Wednesday Anna asked me to check and make sure everything was set (I figured no news was good news - but I’m an idiot). Well, sure enough there was a mixup. Another patient here is traveling, and supposedly there was some confusion as to who was going where, when. So apparently no real communication had been made, and today the clinic where I’m going let our Administrator know that I can only dialyze there on TTS (Tuesday Thursday Saturday shift). This poses two problems. One, I will leave here on a Tuesday, meaning I won’t dialyze between Monday and Thursday. That’s essentially two weekends in a row. Ok, I can handle that. But we’re flying back the following Tuesday, which means I’ll have an über-weekend between Saturday and Wednesday (when I will return to my clinic).
After thinking about it for a bit I realized there was no way that was going to work.
Our F.A. (Facility Administrator) is awesome in the absence of a social worker here - In 30 minutes he was able to do more “legwork” than three past social workers. Typically the social worker takes a lot (LOT) of time to get things like this done, and when things need to be done quickly, it’s nice to have someone decisive, and better still, proactive.
Well, before leaving today, our F.A. let me know that he had found another place willing to let me dialyze there on MWF (Monday Wednesday Friday shift).
Awesome - after nearly blowing my top earlier, all is well again in the Universe.

Lesson?
Don’t try to arrange family trips to quickly.

No … the lesson is chill out! None of this stuff is worth getting worked up about. It all works out.

See you all next week