6 Degrees of Dialysis

I'm making myself write on a regular basis whether I think I have anything to say or not. This will, hopefully, get me into a rhythm. I'm not one for forcing the artistic process. (I'm not calling this blog artistic, it's just that I tend not to write unless I think there's something very pressing on my mind.) And since there is a  tendency for me to judge nothing on my mind as worthy to commit to a blog post, I go weeks then months between writing them. Next thing you know, I haven't written in years and can't remember the password and I just pretend it never happened. So to combat this eventuality I'm gonna pop on here whether I think I have a point to get across or not. Gonna do a stream-of-consciousness thing and see where it leads me.

Maybe that's what this blog will become. Just a place for me to spill my brain out every night before I hit the rack. It wouldn't even have to change the subject of the blog. I'm thinking about dialysis or it's affect on my life about 97% of the time I'm awake. There's actually no part of my life it doesn't touch in some ways. Dialysis is my Kevin Bacon.

To offer another metaphor, dialysis is a dam holding me back from correcting the surprising number of mistakes I made in the first 25 or so years of life. It's not the fault of dialysis that I don't hold any degrees, but it is being on dialysis that prevents me from remedying that by paying back loans currently in default. It's not the fault of dialysis I don't have a career, but being on dialysis prevents me from remedying that by going back to school. You can see where this chain reaction leads. It leads to the day that I hope is coming soon, where I'm in my late 30s, starting over again with a fresh kidney and the mistake of last time to learn from.

When I got the transplant back in 2004 from Jeremy, it was the greatest thing I thought would ever happen to me. And so far it is. But it was also a trap Admiral Akbar wouldn't have seen. For the first time in 25 years I was healthy. Completely healthy. It's hard to describe that to someone who has experienced good health most of their lives, but when I woke up fully from the transplant I felt like a completely new person. Once I walked out of the hospital I was amazed at the difference. I felt like I could do anything. So to that end, I did nothing. Like a jackass I spent the next 5 years doing as little as possible. Enjoying, for the first time, that sweet feeling of good health. Don't get me wrong I worked but at menial jobs. I lived a very fluid life. Worked when I had to, hung out with my friends every other minute of the day. I never saw a day coming where I'd be back on dialysis. Surprisingly and sadly, it was coming much, much sooner than I thought.

25 years was a low end estimate on the expiration date of the new kidney. I had the world in front of me and nothing holding me back. I was gonna enjoy this weird feeling of health for awhile. I enjoyed it for too long it turned out, and after a trip to Las Vegas in January 2008 I went for a routine check up on the old bean and was told that something was wrong and I had to be hospitalized for tests. Those tests gave me the worst news I could imagine. Five years of good health was all I was gonna be given this time. Back to the machine.

Everything I wanted to do, that I thought I had time for down the road was now gonna be that much harder to accomplish. Nobody wants to hire someone who can't be at work 15 hours a week and then might be sick when they are there. And if there's no income then loans that a stupid teenager defaulted on can't be paid back to get back to school. So I cash in on Social Security disability in my 20s and 30s and "live" off that until that elusive second transplant comes around. It's been 5 years now that I've been listed on the UNOS list. I'm Status 1 which I'm pretty sure means I'm in the group best suited for a transplant. The average wait time on the UNOS list is 3-5 years. I can't decide if that's good news or bad. I always tend to lean to bad, but who knows. I have had two false alarms in those five years but beyond that I haven't heard a word from anyone at the hospital. In this case, no news is bad news. It means that nobody anywhere is matching me at all. At least nobody who is dying around here.

 I don't write all this for sympathy, empathy or even judgement or anger. I don't care what you think about what really is at fault for my lot. That's not anger just the truth. I've come to terms with the mistakes I've made in the past.  If I focus too much anger on dialysis to avoid my part in what's happened, that's your opinion but it's what I live. I think I focus appropriate anger on all parties. But this is what streams through my consciousness most nights. As well as, other things related to dialysis. It's not all-consuming but it tries pretty hard to be. Didn't mean to get this serious just three posts back into our relationship, dear reader, but these things happen when I let my brain be in charge of my fingers for awhile. I hope we can still be friends. :)