What Is It Like To Be Put Through the Special Issuance Grinder? (Part 3)

By ANN Correspondent Juan Jimenez

• Read Part One

• Read Part Two

So, a full seven months after my medical exam for something that should have been resolved sometime in 2002, I was still in a holding pattern, still waiting for permission to fly. I was going stir-crazy because I could not do the one thing that most helps me to relax, gather my thoughts and make sense of what happens in my life.

I decided to send a FAX to the office of Dr. Jon Jordan, head of the FAA's AeroMedical division, with a draft copy of this article, and a note asking him to either comment on the issue or take action to correct the problems it describes. What better way to jump-start an issue such as this than starting an earthquake from the top down, right?

It worked. Within twenty-four hours, I had no fewer than three FAA employees calling me to find out what they could do to solve the problem. For the second time, I had the pleasure of talking to Dr. Steven Carpenter in the Special Issuance department. Dr. Carpenter had called me once before and had graciously taken the time to explain to me the requirements of the special issuance. This time, he said that he had the package in hand and was going to review it, which he did. Unfortunately he called again to let me know he had bad news.

The result of the stress was negative, but the cardiologist who had reviewed the thalium images of my heart - not my regular cardiologist - mentioned that there was evidence of "possible ischemia" in the results. For those of you unfamiliar with the terminology, this is another FAA red-flag word. In layman's terms, the word "ischemia" means that some organ in your body is not functioning properly because it is not getting enough oxygen. In the case of the heart, the condition is evidenced by reduced heart-muscle function when you are doing things like exercising, hence the reason the doctor suspected he found it after running me for several minutes on a treadmill. Any MD's reading this who find any factual errors in my descriptions are urged to email me a virtual two by four over the head and I'll be more than happy to correct myself.

Dr. Carpenter told me he needed to know that there was no further blockage in that artery and that my heart was functioning properly under stress. I had two choices. One was an angiogram, a.k.a. roto-rooter - an outpatient procedure in which a small incision is made in your groin, and a catheter is inserted and threaded up to your heart, where a dye is released and pictures are taken.

The other option was a stress echosonogram. This one is the same treadmill stress test. However, instead of injecting chemicals into your body that make your mouth taste as if you have been licking a crusty, old copper pipe, a technician uses ultrasound imaging equipment to take a much more detailed look at your heart in "real time." The entire procedure is videotaped and analyzed with the help of a very fast computer. The idea is to see how your heart muscle is performing under stress and determine if there is any area that looks like it is not getting enough oxygen-rich blood.

I then asked Dr. Carpenter to please call my cardiologist and explain this to him in Klingon, or whatever language it is that doctors use among themselves, to eliminate any possible doubt. He did, and they agreed the echosonogram would suffice. In late April I scheduled myself for the expensive test. I was supposed to be on the treadmill until my heart reached 50% over the resting pulse, Stage III of what the dungeonmasters…. err, pardon me… the technicians and the FAA refer to as the "Bruce Protocol." I got to that stage, and then they decided "Heck, it's for the FAA, keep going until he drops." I made Stage IV, 72% over my resting pulse. The cardiologist, Dr. Eisen, inspected the results and again told me, based on his extensive experience with pilots in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and the FAA, that there was no reason for the FAA to deny me the medical. He found zero evidence of ischemia.

In exactly one week all the results and tracings were ready for pickup, so I drove to the doctor's office, picked them up, then drove straight to the Federal Express drop-off point to send everything to Dr. Carpenter. It's been two weeks since I did that, and he hasn't responded to my email messages to find out if he got the package and if he had made a decision to issue the medical. I know the envelope was received the next day, but I don't know if it has been given to him. The nice lady that answers the phone and helps you check the status of the special issuance says the computer has a record of the arrival of the latest results, but at that point the Black Hole of Oklahoma takes over and no other information is available.

So, here I am, in yet another holding pattern. I have no idea what has happened since then. In the meanwhile, there are people out there being inducted into aviation "halls of fame" who never bothered to renew their medical certificates for more than twenty years.

I received an e-mail a few weeks ago from someone who told me that he has a friend who flies a Baron and does not have either a medical or a pilot's license, and has been flying for thirty years. I even have friends flying with pacemakers powered by old batteries that could give up the ghost at any time.

So… how does a citizen get good service from the FAA?

I do not have a clue, folks.

Maybe someone else can tell me. I have been able to heave and shove the process forward due to my status as an aviation journalist, but what about all the other folks that are being put through this grinder?

I cannot imagine what it must be like to sit at home day after day, week after week, month after month, not knowing what is going on and not being able to do anything about it.

Marion Blakey, are you listening?

FMI: http://www.faa.gov