Chapter 8
The transfer to America was a logistical nightmare. All I wanted them to do was just give me a jab, put me in a box and send me off by DHL, but apparently there are strict rules about transporting ‘livestock’, and I would be breaking most of them, so the nightmare began. First a team of specialists flew in from States side, and then over the next few days they gradually altered my medication so that I would be more able to withstand the transfer, both physically and mentally, and also to prepare me for what was to come when I finally arrived there. I would also have to be transferred off of my ‘bed like bed’ and placed onto a special stretcher, hopefully without permanently paralyzing me in the process, and all those wonderful machines that I had grown to love (or hate) would then slowly have to be replaced with special lightweight ones, specially designed for use in air ambulances - something to do with voltages, plug sizes or whatever.
Once I was stable, it was into a helicopter for the short trip to a waiting Boeing 727, and when I was safely strapped into this flying ambulance we were on the move, I wondered if it had blues and two’s on its roof. It must have, as there was no waiting around for an available slot, Air Traffic Control just carved one, and soon we; that was me, Alice, Maria, David and Charlie, plus a host of Doctors and Nurses were on our way. Alice, Maria and the Medical Staff were obvious choices to come on board the aircraft with me but David and Charlie were with me ostensibly to ensure that there was a smooth handover to their colonial counterparts when we arrived in New York, but in reality it was my way of saying thank you to them for doing all those little extras which they willingly did on occasions. Charlie had fallen in love with Bonnie and Clyde when he had transferred them to the kennels; it wasn’t a hard thing to do, and I wasn’t surprised that when he had a few days off he hired a beach apartment (subsidised by yours truly) and took them on a holiday. They all then spent four hectic days cavorting around the beach; the fact that Charlie’s on/off girlfriend had flown in for a ‘bit of Sun’ as well was totally irrelevant, but were was Robin? He was already in America - waiting for me.
As I lay there lightly sedated, and listening to the gentle hiss of aluminium sliding through the rarefied air I became aware of a commotion going on around me, and it wasn’t me that they were ‘commoting’ over. The three Doctors, whom I was paying loads of dosh too, to be on board to look after me, very quickly lost interest in that fact. They were very worried, I was very worried, Charlie was very worried, in fact everyone on board the aircraft was ‘very worried’ ---- about David. By now we were well over half way to the Big Apple and it appeared that several of David’s pills were throwing a wobbly big time; these must have been the ones that didn’t like altitude, and he quickly regained the pallor of our first acquaintance. Once the Doctors had been ‘brought up to speed’ (ugh – another saying that I hate) on his recent medical history by Charlie, and I confirmed that I would initially be covering the cost of any treatment they were on the radio pronto. There also must have been quite a comprehensive first aid box on board because after a needle full of different concoctions was emptied into his arm he seemed to stabilize. Two of the Doctors then had a quiet chat with me again, ‘did I realise that what David really needed was a full system flush through (or words to that effect), and it was going to be very expensive’. Here I was lying in my own luxurious piece of hired hardware, and all that they were worried about was a few extra shillings, sorry cents on the bill.
‘Damn the expense’ I told them, ‘go for it’, and so as the Pratt and Whitney engines wound up, to push the rest of the aircraft to its maximum permitted airspeed, ‘flat out’ in other words, preparations were being made for two patients to be offloaded at JFK, and as I lay there, all but totally ignored, I called Maria over and had her make arrangements for Caroline and Cindy to be flown over and accommodated close to David’s hospital. I didn’t care what sort of aircraft they used, just as long as it was fast.
There was no delay when we entered American airspace, the Pilots carried out a straight in approach and suddenly we were down, and when we came a screeching halt, there were no polite ‘after you’, ‘Oh no, after you please’ - Medics came streaming on board and David, with Charlie in tow, was whisked away, to the accompaniment of a cacophony of sirens. I had briefed Charlie before we landed on what I expected, and he almost hugged me. He had my verbal ‘piece of plastic’ in his hand, all he had to do was get David sorted out, and after the Lord Mayor’s procession came the dust cart, or to be more precise me. I was again lightly sedated and then the reverse of how I had gotten into the aircraft was carried out, but there were no sirens for me, and on arrival at my new abode they didn’t even let me have a good night’s sleep, or even a cup of tea before they started.
I was wheeled in through the front doors and straight into theatre, where I was to meet up with Robin, or at least a part of him, later on. The team that had flown over the week previous, and had accompanied me over on the 727 had prepared me well; I was all ready for the cut and thrust that lay ahead, and so was Robin. He was in a nearby ward waiting for the word to be moved to an adjacent theatre - but first things first. Very carefully they removed the remaining slivers of disc that had been edging ever closer to my spinal column, and then equally carefully rolled me over, in a specially designed frame, and handed me over to the next team. This team then carried out a liver Allograft (liver transplant) on me. About 60% of Robin’s liver (his right lobe) was installed in me, after of course first taking out my old one. It is called a Living Donor Liver Transplant (LDLT), which is more complicated than a normal transplant, but the chances of rejection, or complications for me were greatly reduced, and within four to six weeks Robin’s liver should have returned to full function, and finally, before sewing me back up, the plumbers moved in and did some fancy knife-work on my kidneys and a few other bits and pieces that they found lying around inside, and once they had finished the needlework (Millie would have been very proud of it) the machines were unplugged and hey presto, I worked. Well I think that is what happened - I was sound asleep at the time.
I was in theatre for about twelve hours, and comatose for a considerably lot longer time than that, but, as my mind wandered about, just before I re-entered the real world I suddenly thought, ‘isn’t it quiet’, and it was. There was none of the ‘clackety clack’, or ‘hufferty pufferty’ machines doing their jobs keeping me alive, there was just silence, and it was lovely. Perhaps I wouldn’t adopt one of them after all.
When I opened my eyes, either the Surgeon’s had done their jobs and I would see Sheila, sorry Alice, or I would see St Peter, so risking it I gingerly opened them and Alice looked beautiful, and although Yanks are OK they can’t furnish out a suite for nuts. My room looked just like a hospital room, boring I thought, I must be on the mend.
Alice explained to me that I had been sedated for three days following the operations, and in that time most of my bodily functions had started functioning again. The rest were expected to after a coke and a plate of hamburger and fries, and she also had the latest news from Charlie; David was also out of theatre and on the mend. He had received the operation that he should have had six months ago, it would take some time but his prognosis was good, and Caroline and Cindy also sent their thanks, best wishes, and loads of kisses. That was all well and good I thought, but where were David’s colonial counterparts?
They turned out to be a bit more ‘in your face’ than their continental cousins. Admittedly they were nice, very nice in fact, very much like David and his team, except that they didn’t wear jackets (well not in the hospital anyway) and were dripping artillery and militia paraphernalia from every imaginable attachment point. A few days later one of them even showed me why they couldn’t wear shorts, a back-up pistol strapped to one ankle, a throwing knife to the other.
Robin was wheeled in to see me the next day, along with his girlfriend; well she used to be his girlfriend. It had been his idea about the LDLT in the first place and although I had half-heartedly tried
to talk him out of it, he was adamant, and he was now well on the road to recovery. He also had two pieces of important news for me, one, his girlfriend was now his wife, grand display of huge engagement and wedding rings (they got married just before my allograft, just in case), and the second...... ‘Stop, let me guess, I’m going to be a grandfather’. If I had it wrong and they had just got a new puppy I was in serious trouble but no, the ‘six month bump’ on my new daughter-in-law was a dead giveaway. They had obviously found the time for ‘that’ weekend.
David and I were making good progress in our respective hospitals, and Caroline and Cindy commuted many times over the following few weeks to keep me ‘up to speed’ with his progress, as they were in no hurry to fly back to the UK, they had just made Caroline redundant (was it overstaffing or sour grapes?) and Cindy was now on her summer holidays.
It was three weeks into my great American adventure; Alice, Robin and his new wife Emma were winging their way home, in an Executive Air Ambulance of course, when I had a brainwave, so I rang Vicente. I didn’t know what the time was in Spain but for the amount of Euro’s that I was paying him it must be about the same time as here, so let him earn his shekels. He answered the phone after the second ring and after the usual pleasantries I asked him to look into ‘scholarships’.
‘Certainly’ he replied, not a trace of sleep or surprise in his voice, ‘I will Fax Maria with some details within the hour’.
Fifty-seven and a half minutes later I rang David and asked him if he was up for a short trip, an hour later the four of them were in my room, David in a wheelchair.
‘Forgive me if you think I am interfering but, .......’, I then explained about the scholarship for Cindy. Cindy and Caroline hugged and kissed me; then both burst into tears, and as we chatted about it I had another brainwave; part of Cindy’s wider education must surely include a trip to Disney World, and when they returned from their educational experience it was almost time for us to fly back to Spain. David and I were both in a safe enough condition to undertake the flight back over the pond, I had given David the choice of going back to England, but after a chat with Caroline and Cindy he decided to take up my offer of returning to my hotel/hospital, only this time as a patient, where his ‘girls’ could put in some serious sun worshiping time, mind you Charlie was the real winner out of all this; he was being paid top dollar, as they say on this side of the oggin (another quaint old nautical expression), but he was looking after the wrong person.
On the flight back I had a long talk with Maria; her next project was going to be to find me somewhere to live. As I had given Doris the villa I was ‘of no fixed abode’ so when I was finally fit enough to leave the hospital, hopefully in about three months’ time, I needed somewhere to park my backside. I had been thinking about it a lot recently and realized that I could have as many homes as I wanted, anywhere in the World, but no, I wanted to stay in Spain, that is where my memories of Sheila were - plus I liked the heat. Maria was relieved at that, she had obviously been thinking along these lines too as she had Myra to think of. We then had a long talk about Myra, ‘would it not be better for her’, I suggested, ‘if she went to a private school?’ ‘I know she is young but at least she would have stability’, I suspected that we would be doing quite a lot of travelling in the future. She tried to raise the question of fees but I pointed out that as her employer I would make it one of her P.A. perks (Vicente would be pleased) and so in the end we decided that in relation to the first issue she would look into suites in suitable hotels in the Valencia Region. In the short term this would be perfect for me, it would give me time to look around for something more permanent. On the second issue, of Myra, she promised to think about it!
We arrived back in Spain in the early evening and were met by David’s replacement, Rodney.
‘Hello boss, please call me Rodders’, (I think not), and as I was being wheeled from the aircraft (for short trips I was now allowed into a wheelchair) to the waiting Helicopter, Vicente approached me. Why? I didn’t pay him to sit around airports on the off chance that I might be passing through. I then saw his face; this was business, not pleasure, and as we lifted off, and headed out towards the hospital he started....
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