Bob Massie

After weeks of big milestones, over the last few days my progress has been marked by small, steady and encouraging signs.   The most important ones are those that I can’t see – the numbers produced by the three-times-a-week blood draws that show the levels of my liver functions, the even presence of the immune suppression drug (Prograf) in my blood, the blood chemistry that shows how my system is absorbing nutrients and producing the vast array of materials necessary to health.   All of these have been in settling down in a way that has encouraged my doctors.   Many of the adjustments will continue to be slow.   I need to eat a fair amount of protein to let my albumin levels rise.  I will need to start reducing – at a very slow pace that will take months to complete – the pain medications that are keeping me comfortable.

I also should mention that I had the opportunity to meet the extraordinary young woman who donated her liver to me – in fact, we have met three times, the most recently earlier today when I visited her in the hospital.   She had been discharged a few days ago but has had to to be readmitted from some additional treatments that the doctors feel confident are well within the ups-and-downs of transplant response.   The hospital is preparing a description of the procedure and of both of our cases, and when that information is released I will post more about her here.   She is a woman of energy, humor, and pluck – charming and funny and full of life.   When at one point I tried to express – as I know I will many times in the future – a heartfelt thank you, she said “oh, of course — any time!”

For me an important milestone will be when I am fully detached from the various tubes and bags that I still have to wear under my clothing, devices designed to remove or introduce fluids in various direct ways.   And my truly impressive abdominal scar is held together by an array of closely placed staples which looks like a long zipper on a sleeping bag.  They should be in for another week.   Kate has made me promise that no matter what I do in the future, I must never appear at the pool or beach without my shirt on.   I have promised her that I am going to investigate one-piece nineteenth style bathing suits that would cover that up – and in any case are more suitable to my Shrek-like physique.   Perhaps I could piggy-back off the hyper performance swim suit controversy that has been plaguing the international swimming competitions in the last few weeks.

Speaking of Katie, we were THRILLED that after a four week separation, she flew down from Maine with Anne’s sister and family to rejoin us.   We are now staying in the small but lovely Mason House “suite” which consists of two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen.    The arrangement is perfect for us, since we can prepare and share meals and relax, and Kate can retreat into the privacy of her nicely appointed bedroom when she has had enough of her parents.   To my eyes Kate, who turned eleven in June, is noticeably taller – her red hair is more blond that it has ever been because of her time in the sun, and now hangs down far below her shoulders.   She looks so much like photos of Anne at the same age that it is spooky.   I am really proud of her for handling the last few weeks with such strength and emerging maturity.   Though she received the loving nurture of both my family and Anne’s, and she was able to enjoy the beauty of both ocean-Maine and lake-Maine, it was not easy, as a young teen, to go through the long-distance apprehension surrounding my surgery and the separation from both of her parents.   She had to stretch and grow in a lot of ways, and I think she is doing an incredible job.

On another and more troubling front, I was startled yesterday morning when I woke up to learn that my mother, Suzanne Massie, had taken a bad fall the day before yesterday and has broken her left arm.   She was in Colorado to deliver a speech as part of the Aspen Music Festival, and she apparently stepped outside in the evening to take in the beauty of the mountain air and stairs.   Somehow she missed a step and fell over, breaking her arm between the elbow and shoulder.   The fracture apparently caused damage to the artery in her arm, so she had to be airlifted by night from Aspen to Denver, where a team of orthopedic and vascular surgeons worked for several hours (longer than my transplant!) to put her back into shape.  My sisters Susanna and Elizabeth flew out to be with her and I have spoken to her on the phone – she is of course, groggy, but in remarkably good spirits.   She apparently keeps telling my sisters that the whole incident was so surprising and unexpected.   I should say so.

Many of you were nice enough to send me warm greetings through the Internet or through cards, and each message meant a lot, so for those of you who know my mother I would urge you to drop her a quick note (she will be in the hospital for 5-6 days at least) at

Swedish Medical Center

501 East Hampden Avenue

Englewood, CO 80113

Apparently she is being well cared for by the nursing staff, but my sisters have been there for 24 hours and they still have not been visited by a surgeon or a physician, which frankly does not speak well to the management of this particular hospital.   Let’s hope that is corrected quickly.   If any of you knows someone out there, please give them a nudge.

So, as my mother used to say when we were growing up, “there is never a dull moment in this family.”   I know you all join me in wishing her a swift recovery.