With Dean Martin playing in the back ground I find myself making calculations and going over figures. Naw, I’m not playing with flash paper and taking bets for the next race at Santa Anita or Hollywood Park. I’m calculating my sisters “Model for End-Stage Liver Disease”.
Basiclly, its a scale that determins who gets the next liver for transplant. But since my sis is not on the list and cares not to be on the list. I use the scale to gage her progress. From a 1 to 40 scale, 40 being the most critically ill, my sis went from a 27 to 22 as far as MELD numbers are concerned. Though she is well within the End Stages of her disease, she has improved just a smidgen.
There are the blood tests that give me a real “what’s Up” as far as nutrition goes. But this MELD deal is a good score card for me. At least it gives me some hope in this race for survival. After all, she was sent home to die in the first place. So any improvement is great news.
Funny how illegal gambling was once my bread and butter as well as other rackets. Back then I though the stakes were high and the profits were great for the risk, just a little cops and robbers. Was nothing but a meat ball.
Now I’m working with even greater odds. If I was making book on this, the odds would not be in my favor. But I have no choice as I throw the dice on the green felt.
Where statistics about ponies and jockeys used to roam, resided terms like Creatinine levels, Bilirubin and INR or Prothrombin time. No more Jonny Longden or concerns about Will Shoemaker. No more concerns for the decendants of the Legendary Native Diver or if the feds are on to us.
It’s all about wondering if I can make a difference. It’s facing insurmountable odds and having blind faith. The stakes are the highest I’ve ever worked with, the life of my baby sister.
Your Devil’s Advocate
Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind