New Orleans, I’ll be back
I haven’t spent time in New Orleans, Louisiana, in at least twenty years, but now that I’ve moved my cystic fibrosis care to Tulane, I am being reintroduced to the city. Of course, New Orleans is home to the most well-known Mardi Gras parties and parades, but it’s truly so much more.
Honestly speaking, I was nervous about venturing back down to the “Big Easy”, especially alone. It’s an amazing city, but it’s very busy and, as in most cities, if you don’t know where you’re going, you could end up in the wrong place.
I had the most amazing host “parents” who are allowing me to stay in their guest quarters across the Mississippi River in Gretna. They made me feel so welcomed and their property had such great energy for healing and creativity. I enjoyed their presence and visiting with them immensely. Although I wasn’t able to stay for long, I’m already looking forward to another visit with them.
Transitioning to a new CF facility and treatment team is never easy. Just in general, healthcare in the United States is more difficult than it should ever be. Add a chronic illness, and the stress level goes up exponentially. Each CF clinic, team and hospital is a bit different. I’ve been at UT in Tyler since 2009. It’s a small and clean clinic, but unfortunately, Texas makes my health very difficult to manage even on the good days.
Tulane is an entirely different beast. Not only is it much larger with many more patients, the hospital staff isn’t dripping with hospitality and smiles the way Tyler was. The first thing I noticed approaching Tulane was the tremendous number of homeless people surrounding the hospital. It was so sad to see people sleeping in the middle of the sidewalks. Secondly, while people were wearing masks, apparently only their chins needed to be protected in the hospital.
On the pulmonary floor, the receptionist was quite rude. She was probably overworked or overwhelmed, but that is most definitely something I’m not used to. I’m also not used to being seated in a waiting room with other CF patients. Although we’re not supposed to be within six feet of each other for infectious disease control, we can spot each other a mile away.
The CF clinic staff and doctors do seem very nice though, and NP Stark was on top of it…getting my history and already talking about treatment plans and procedures needed. However, nothing will be done until I can meet my deductible of $9200 and get the full battery of tests done to establish a baseline.
After leaving my clinic visit, I was emotionally wiped out, frustrated, sad, angry, overwhelmed…all the emotions that having cystic fibrosis brings up in me. I went back across the river to Gretna feeling defeated.
My hosts, Cindy and Jim, didn’t let me wallow in my frustration. That night, we hopped the ferry at Algiers Point and floated on over to the French Quarter. I needed to see the fun side of the city. Our first stop - Cafe Du Monde for cafe au lait and beignets. So good!
The city wasn’t wild on a weekday night, but I don’t think I would have felt quite comfortable walking around alone. We went down “Pirate Alley” where palm readers and other mystics had set up shop for the night, and the homeless were congregating. We turned a corner and ran right into a “practice parade.” Even the practice parades are much more fun than any Texas parade I’ve ever attended, and we all three left weighed down with purple, gold and green beads.
We strolled by Basilica of Saint Louis King of France to see “Touchdown Jesus”, and listened to street performers, saw paintings by local artists displayed on the fences, and shared our beads with people we passed on the streets. By the time we got back home, I felt more centered and happy, realizing that I am only in control of so much. The rest I just have to leave to fate or fortune.
The next day before I left, Cindy showed me around Gretna and we had lunch in the courtyard of Gattuso’s. Another delicious meal with such great company. Even though Gretna is technically a neighborhood of New Orleans, the vibe is totally different; much more laid back. It’s a place that I could get used to.
