On Friday I had my first consultation with the cardiologist since before the transplant. As you may recall, he nearly miraculously saved our bacon (or at least the laboriously constructed transplant schedule) by successfully allaying, at almost the last possible moment, the Hopkins oncologist's fears arising from the irregular EKG that I produced in the pre-transplant qualifying round. This time, he gave me as close to a completely clean bill of health (well, from a strictly cardiological point of view) as I am ever likely to get. He confessed to being "really worried" about me, back when we first encountered each other, when I was in the hospital battling pneumonia; recalling what now seems like ancient history, he was referring to the specter of amyloidosis caused by the myeloma doing permanent damage. Now, with the various symptoms that then concerned him -- shortness of breath, low blood pressure, low blood oxygen, abdominal edema -- a relatively distant memory, he sees no reason to resume dosing me with furosemide, which I had continued to take right up until the transplant team discontinued all of my medications in favor of their own. Barring some problem, he doesn't want to see me again for six months.