All Glen Gondrezick can do is wait.
He waits every day for his cell phone to ring. When he hears the ring tone, everything stops. He picks it up, hoping to see those first three numbers read “310.” When a different area code appears, his body sags and the wait continues.
Gondrezick, the former Knick, is waiting for more than a phone call – he’s waiting for a heart. The 52-year-old needs a heart transplant and has been hoping for almost a month to get the phone call that the doctors have found him a suitable match, something complicated by his 6-foot-6 size.
Until they do, he sits with his phone nearby in his Las Vegas home.
“My cell phone is my lifeline,” Gondrezick said.
Gondrezick spent 18 days at UCLA Medical Center last month before they sent him home as a “1B” classification, meaning you’re at the top of the list but you don’t have to stay in the hospital. When UCLA calls (310 area code) he will be rushed there for his transplant.
The height that helped him on the court now slows his search for a heart. The average wait time for someone his size is 2½ months.
For now, he’s at home with a portable IV unit, home nursing care and 17 different medications he must take every day. His heart is operating at nine percent, leaving him weakened.
He waits, not knowing how long he has.
“There’s other things I want to do before I go,” he said. “Each and every day is a big deal for me.”
As part of the preparation for a transplant, his immune system is being lowered through medication. The body’s immune system will reject a new organ if it is not undermined like this.
The weakened immune system forces Gondrezick to stay inside his house most of the day so he won’t get sick. He drives his 12-year-old son Travis to school every day and even took him to the batting cages last week. But he had to stay outside watching Travis hit and be careful what he touched.
“Being outside I used to take for granted,” Gondrezick said. “When you’re strapped to a hospital bed for 18 days you appreciate it.”
Gondrezick’s mother died two weeks ago in Colorado but he could not attend her funeral because he is not permitted to fly.
“Right now, it just seems like piling on,” he said.
The Knicks selected Gondrezick in the second round of the 1977 draft out of UNLV, where he helped the Rebels reach the Final Four. He played two seasons for the Knicks, averaging just below five points per game.
Gondrezick played four more seasons in Denver before finishing his career in Europe. He became a radio broadcaster for UNLV after his playing days were over and has called the Rebels games for the past 16 years.
Eight years ago, he became ill while playing volleyball. He wrote it off as food poisoning from some unwashed grapes he ate. When he remained sick for days, he went to the doctor, where he learned he had a heart attack.
Gondrezick was diagnosed with congestive heart failure, a condition that causes the heart to deteriorate. The diagnosis still baffles Gondrezick, who had no family history, no elevated blood pressure or cholesterol and never smoked or used drugs.
He suffered his second heart attack four years later and a transplant began being discussed then.
A few months ago, he went into cardiac arrest in the middle of the night. He collapsed in his bedroom, cutting his face on his dresser as he fell. The defibrillator doctors implanted in his chest saved his life with four shocks. In March, he went to UCLA for an evaluation, and they wanted to admit him on the spot. He checked in a few days later and spent 18 days staring at the air conditioning units outside his window pondering his fate.
“The waiting for him has been very, very hard,” said Tammy Wadkins, his girlfriend of seven years. “Just living every day not knowing if you’re going to die or not. When he goes to sleep, not knowing if you’re going to wake up.”
Gondrezick spends his time trying to focus on Travis and making the most of the time they have together, but for a former professional athlete, his body’s failure is tough to cope with.
“I felt like I was Superman, then I went to being Clark Kent and now I’m Lois Lane,” he said. “This is the first time my body has ever let me down. Once you get past that, it’s the mental aspect you have to deal with.”
On top of the medical issue, Gondrezick also wonders how he will pay for his procedure. His medical stays this year already have used a good percentage of his insurance policy. The doctors have told him the transplant will cost nearly $1.5 million. Part of the reason he was sent home from UCLA was the concern he would be unable to pay his bill if he stayed longer.
His friends have set up a fund for him through Bank of America and there have been fundraisers in Las Vegas. The NBA and Nuggets have contributed, and Gondrezick spoke with new Knicks president Donnie Walsh, his former coach in Denver, on Friday. Walsh promised the organization would make a contribution.
When Walsh called, Gondrezick thanked his former coach, hung up the phone and the wait began again, hoping the next call would be the one he’s truly waiting for.
If you would like to help Gondrezick pay his medical bills, you can visit any Bank of America branch and contribute to the “Glen Gondrezick fund.”