tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26981939386885567262024-02-08T06:50:57.617-06:00Got StuckMusings on dialysis, not working, life and anything I have the energy for.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-69571878581237683242018-01-26T21:58:00.001-06:002018-01-27T05:57:26.434-06:00So I wrote a thing...Well, a different thingI've decided to lean into the only skill I think I have and that's writing. Here is not where we shall debate whether that's true or not. To that end, pursuing writing, I've been developing my own stuff and writing on websites that accept submissions from anyone with something to contribute. One day I'd like this to lead to someone paying me for writing but who knows. Anyway, I wrote a thing tonight for a website and it's being reviewed/edited right now and I don't see why it wouldn't get published apart from there being quality standards. However, if for some reason it doesn't get published, and in the name of getting my writing on more than one platform and hence to more people I've decided to publish it here as well. Let's not focus on any sentence structure faults or any grammar issues. I write I don't edit. Different skills and I can do both, just not at the same time. So here it is, a piece I wrote on the depression that accompanied my life with a chronic illness and how I didn't so much overcome it as keep it at bay. I hope you enjoy.<br>
<br>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
I've been sick since the day I entered this world. So sick in fact that the doctors told my parents not to expect me to live past the age of 5. I'll turn 40 in less than 3 weeks and I've had my good times and more than one person's share of bad times. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
I've been through the highs of kidney transplants and the deepest of lows in my sixth, seventh and eighth years of dialysis. How did I manage to get through any of that with my sanity intact? I'm not sure I did. But I am sure that I got through it without being committed or doing harm to myself because I had friends. Great friends. And I had my family. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Under no circumstances should you get the idea that I persevered through any of my health struggles like a ray of positivity sunshine. I spent a lot of it as a sullen dick. Especially five years into being on dialysis for the second time and every doctor's visit having the same result: You're just so hard to match. With that refrain in your head combined with the physical effects of thrice weekly dialysis treatments, and the fact that you haven't had a job or romantic relationship in years you end up with a recipe for serious, dangerous depression. And that's exactly what I had. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
I have suffered for years with depression and just because I sit here today writing this in the best physical health I've been in since I was in my 20's doesn't mean I don't still slip into it from time to time. Granted, I don't feel the utter hopelessness and downright suicidal tendencies that often plagued me due to experiencing much of my 30's from a dialysis chair. However, I still can get low and sad, and wall myself off from everything to just wallow. But today, as I have my entire life, when I need to bring myself back it has always been my friends and family that have been my Green Lantern's Light, to use a reference I feel most comfortable with. And when I couldn't turn to any of them I had the people at my dialysis clinic. Anyone who knows me knows I am not one to suffer strangers let alone seek any out for a conversation. But some of the best talks I had with anyone during those years on dialysis were with other patients, particularly those close to my age or younger. They made me feel like a veteran who those coming up behind me could use as either a cautionary tale or a roadmap. Or both. Other times, however, it made me feel even more helpless because it shone a light on the relentless nature of kidney disease. Those were the times that my friends were most helpful.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
That sounds schmalzy and cheesy and I honestly wish I had something more profound to attribute it to, but that's it. When I was feeling that particular weight on my chest it was always family and friends that kept me one step back from the edge. It was my mom's voice reminding me, "There are a lot of people way worse off than you are." It was my friends and their goofy asses distracting me, sometimes merely with their presence, at times when I was particularly low. Like <span style="letter-spacing: 0.187px;">when I found out another patient at my clinic had passed away or my doctor was particularly foreboding that day or I just simply woke up with that "Why go on?" mentality.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px; margin-bottom: 1em;">
None of this is me saying I conquered and cured depression through the power of love. No. That just sounds stupid. I felt stupid typing that. No, I also needed to see a professional which, thanks to our health care system, I wasn't always able to have access to. I had all the anti-depressants I needed, at my disposal, but one-on-one therapy with a professional was rarely something I could take advantage of. So, if you're in a similar position I am not suggesting you go make friends and suddenly feel the good mental health strike you like a bolt of lightning. Mental health care in the United States needs a major overhaul and because of that many don't have the moderately happy ending I was blessed with. This needs to be fixed yesterday. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; letter-spacing: 0.187px;">
I honestly can't imagine being alive today without the people in my life. It didn't make any of my experiences with kidney disease/failure easy to deal with. It is something hundreds of thousands in the U.S. deal with every day. And with the number of organ donors so low, only a tiny fraction get to experience the joy of getting the phone call telling them a transplant is in their future. But what having my friends and family did for me was every bit as important as the doctors and nurses who monitored me and checked up on me. And every bit as important as the hospital staff who worked for close to a decade to find me a match. I can never properly thank all the people who put up with me for all those years. All the times they made me laugh when I wanted to cry. All the times they came to the hospital because I was so self-destructive that I ignored all common sense and did things I knew were dangerous to someone in renal failure. They were the anchor that kept me from jumping off the edge and now that I have my health back I hope I eventually make them glad they were a part of my journey.<br>
<span style="font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 15.4px; letter-spacing: 0.154px;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 15.4px; letter-spacing: 0.154px;">Those of you out there dealing with a chronic illness and the depression that so often comes with it are going through battles most will never know and could never understand. I implore you all to seek help in any manner available. Tell a doctor, tell a nurse, tell your family and friends. Tell a stranger. Whatever you do, don't hold it inside and let it do just as much damage as the disease ravaging your body already has. There's help and there are people who care. Whether you believe it or not. I often felt alone in a group of my friends but when I left my own head and lived in that moment surrounded by people who I knew cared about me I felt that much more healthy. If even for a moment.</span><br>
<span style="font-family: "Droid Serif", Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 15.4px; letter-spacing: 0.154px;"><br></span>
Authors note: I said don't pay attention to the grammar and sentence structure mistakes and I meant it, but rest assured after re-reading this after a couple hours since posting it I have realized I should have paid a little closer attention. I have discovered new levels of cringe-worthy. I have since fixed some of the more glaring mistakes. Not all, but some. Awful. Just awful.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-18839607970384865452017-01-04T16:34:00.001-06:002017-01-04T16:34:34.606-06:00Hi! So obviously I'm not too good at keeping this thing up to date. Most of that's my fault, some of it is the fault of a little thing the kids are calling a kidney transplant. Yes I got the call on October 4th and the deed was done the next day. Three months out and I feel amazing. No dialysis, no dietary restrictions, no fluid restrictions. It's a freedom I long dreamed of. As of now my plan is to find some work to fill my time and in the Summer I'll be back in school to finish my degree. Also I've been writing since my transplant. I thought the last 8 years shouldn't be a total waste, might as well make some art out of it. Anywho, I swear I am going to do my best to keep this updated more regularly with my post-op progress and tips and such for those who are heading down the same path or even those still on dialysis and dreaming of this path. For now, here's the opening to what may one day turn into a book or a play or a movie or just something I show people to bother them. Til next time kids.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He woke up with a strange feeling he had not felt in almost
a decade. Not the grogginess and pain, that he had experienced more times than
he cared to mention. No, this was the feeling of better health. The first words
out of his mouth when he saw the nurse come in the room was, “Does it work? Am
I gonna be ok?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“Look for yourself.”, as she held up a bag of
burgundy-tinged liquid that he slowly realized was coming out of his brand new,
working kidney. With all the strength he could muster he let out a long-wished
for sigh of relief and fell back under the spell of the mixture of leftover
anesthesia and pain meds. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-36022333565336278672015-05-30T21:04:00.000-05:002015-05-30T21:05:38.926-05:00"The Got Stuck Podcast" Coming Summer of 2015 (Title almost certainly destined to change)<div style="text-align: left;">
So keeping busy seems to be a popular form of advice I get to stave off boredom or depression or any other of the non-physical maladies that can get ya when you're unable to work, lack the resources to move about on your own except in a very limited sphere and have anywhere from 16-24 hours to kill a day, depending on dialysis schedule and sleep patterns. So I've been wracking the noodle trying to figure out what I can do inside this "fortress of solitude" to while away the hours until...well, hell, I don't know what I'm wasting time til. Anyway, I've tried all manner of things from watching tv, to watching movies, to watching my Twitter feed refresh. I'm quite the watcher but I think I've got that particular skill nearly perfected. If it was what was needed to take down the bad guys in any of the Taken movies I could have given Liam Neeson a movie off and done pretty well for myself. But I digest...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've started reading again. Got myself into a couple different books at the moment but I've got the attention span of a 2 year old so I can only sit and read a book for so long. It doesn't matter that the stories are great. At some point something shiny gets my attention in the form of a passing thought and off I go onto search for something else. Another hobby/time waster I've been into for years now has been podcasts. If you are unfamiliar, a podcast is essentially a radio show released independently on the internet with very few, if any, restrictions on content. I listen to quite a few and they go a very long way to helping me pass the time whether it's in the dialysis chair, going for my short-lived jaunts about downtown Schertz for that "fresh air" everyone raves about, or just sitting around the house when there's nothing on tv and I don't feel like falling down the rabbit hole that is Netflix. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After years of listening to the likes of Kevin Smith, Chris Hardwick, Jay Mohr, Marc Maron and pretty much anyone employed by National Public Radio I have decided that producing, hosting and distributing my own podcast sounds like a lot of fun and a hell of a way to kill some time. So for the past couple weeks since I've made that decision I've done the requisite research into gear and<a class="wjxckpsui" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2698193938688556726#18086092" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> software<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a>, etc. I've also given a lot of thought to a theme or through line for my podcast. Something that guides my conversation with the audience each time I "go on the air". I suppose I could make it a<a class="wjxckpsui" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2698193938688556726#83590877" title="Click to Continue > by Info"> spin<img src="https://cdncache1-a.akamaihd.net/items/it/img/arrow-10x10.png" /></a> off of this blog and have it be about my experiences as a dialysis patient and anxious needer of a transplant. But it would be a very loose framework. While intellectually I know that since I literally don't do anything but go to dialysis and kill time until I have to <i>go back</i> to dialysis, that that is really all there is to me, but emotionally I like to believe that there is more to me than that. Even if I can't prove it, not even to myself. (Maybe that is part of what this podcast venture is about,)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, that is my assignment for myself over this coming summer. I am going to be piecing the gear and software I need together and hopefully my August I will be posting regular shows to this website or another I may create. If any of you creative types have any ideas on the direction or make up of the podcast (i.e. title, content) or maybe you have something way more interesting to talk about than my dumb shit and want to come over and talk about it for the whole internet to hear I would love to hear from ya. Either leave a comment below or find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Til next time, (God only knows when that will be,) Ciao!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Facebook: <span class="_50f7" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;"><a class="uiLinkDark" href="https://www.facebook.com/jtully1" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; cursor: pointer; font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">http://facebook.com/<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>jtully1</a></span><br />
<br />
Twitter: @UncleJJ78<br />
<br />
Instagram: @Jastul78</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-71791266435065522292014-01-16T17:51:00.000-06:002014-01-16T19:42:59.640-06:00Thoughts on a May dayToday a friend of mine is getting her new kidney and as I type the surgery should be wrapping up successfully. While sending out good thoughts for success today I started thinking back on that great day in my life. Seems like it was three lifetimes ago that I went into the hospital with no clue what was going to happen but being happier than I'd been at any previous time in my life.<br />
<br />
My donor/best friend/savior/littlest jarhead both checked into the hospital the night before the operation. Either to make sure we didn't get ill or to keep tabs on Jeremy who was deathly afraid that for some reason he would wake up mid-operation. Having already been through more than a few surgeries at that point I found his fear naturally hilarious and open game for ridicule. What are friends for?<br />
<br />
I really thought I'd be tossing and turning all night before the surgery. I knew, barring an emergency, we were at the top of the docket for the day and they would be coming to retrieve the two of us fairly early. I slept pretty soundly, unaided by chemistry. Now the day of my transplant is probably not the way transplant day goes for most. Because Jeremy was a Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps and a, soon to be, two-time visitor to that paradise in the desert, Iraq there was apparently an angle that was newsworthy if not human interest-y. So at 0600 I woke up with a camera guy asking a nurse where he could stand and not be in the way. After being wheeled down to pre-op in side by side gurneys we were welcomed by said camera guy and both laid there trying not to acknowledge that we were being filmed. It was super awkward. Then an idea struck me. I'm kind of a jerk sometimes and I know how to get a laugh. To that end, it was now time to get what the nurses in every pre-op I've ever been in affectionately refer to as "the margarita". If my memory serves it's something similar to Ativan. It's what's called a "twilight drug" and its purpose is to chill you out right before they wheel you in and put the mask on your face for sleepy time. Jeremy, already nervous as all Hell for his very first surgical experience, was watching me to see how I was reacting as I was something of an old hand at that stuff. Never one to pass up a chance at a laugh, when the nurse pushed the margarita through my IV line I instantly dry heaved, feigning a bad reaction. I looked over at the giant saucer eyes on Jeremy and thought, even if this day goes down hill for me I'm going out with a laugh.<br />
<br />
No more than 2 minutes later, after the same drug was administered to Jeremy flawlessly, an impromptu Cheech and Chong routine broke out. It's one of the funniest things I'll ever have been present for. But because the drug was so effective I barely remember any of it.<br />
<br />
The surgery successful, I wake up in the ICU to another friend, and another never to pass up a punchline, Justin was at my bedside. The first words I heard after being reborn with this great gift were, "You have Jeremy's organ in you." Touche sir. Touche.<br />
<br />
A day or so passes and I am in a regular room and feeling great. Not great for someone in my condition. Not "great considering". I felt better than I had felt on any day I had ever been alive. It was amazing. I was genuinely surprised at this. Jeremy was not exactly having the same transcendent experience I was. Because they removed his kidney laproscopically they had to expand his abdomen with nitrogen gas to be able to work around in there without opening him all the way up. Well that gas doesn't just magically go away. It stays in your gut and produces some of the worst pain. Being the friend I am I checked on him regularly, being up and mobile as I was. He was not a happy camper. I made fun of him.<br />
<br />
He got the last laugh when he was released a good three days before I was. Overall I believe I was there for a week and it was the most pleased to be hospitalized I ever was or will ever be again. The television and print interviews before and after the surgery definitely made the experience a unique one, but as far as the surgery and recovery aspects of it all everything went according to plan. I couldn't have been happier.<br />
<br />
Though five years on from that time the transplant went south and now no longer works and I'm back on dialysis Jeremy Duncan will always be my brother and hero for what he did for me that May day in 2004. I don't think about all this very much because though the memories are happy juxtaposed against my life today it doesn't lead to good places mentally. But today, with my friend Valarie being wheeled in, most likely high off her ass, and getting that most special of gifts I thought about fake dry heaving and smiled.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-44160038649452124032013-05-29T21:43:00.000-05:002013-05-29T21:43:10.094-05:00Nothing funny, I just need your help.This is probably going to be the hardest, most scrutinized (by me) post I will ever write. This goes against every instinct I have but this post is essentially going to be me telling you why I need your help.<br />
<br />
I don't know really how to begin something like this so I guess I'll just come out and say what's up. Last week, in the course of catching up with my doctor at dialysis he basically laid my situation out for me in this way: Find a living donor that is either a match or can go into the paired donor exchange or face the fact that you most likely will never be matched to a cadaver kidney. Meaning basically, find someone to donate a kidney or stay on dialysis for the rest of your life. A life that would be significantly shorter because of the aforementioned decades on dialysis. I have no exact numbers but every study I've read on the subject suggests that long term exposure to regular hemodialysis treatments will result in a higher than average morbidity rate. In plain English, I will have many more years ahead of me (not to mention better years) if I get off dialysis as soon as possible.<br />
<br />
This is not easy news to get. Or process. I was given the option, basically, to put it out there and basically ask all of you to consider helping me or just keep this to myself and do God knows what. A lot of options entered my mind. I'm not going to lie, one option was to just stop going and let nature take it's course. This is not uncommon among dialysis patients with no chance of transplant. I've decided to take some very wise advice and not go that route and instead put myself out there in this way. Something I've never been comfortable with. Essentially try to save my own life.<br />
<br />
It's been suggested that my attitude towards my dialysis and health in general can be interpreted as flippant or nonchalant. I guess I do that on purpose. I generally go out of my way to seem normal, or to seem less affected by dialysis and kidney failure in an effort to avoid pity, or to avoid the guilt of making people worry about me. By doing this, however, I can see how I could make it seem like my health situation was no more than an irritant and not something much more troubling.<br />
<br />
I know that I have also given the impression that things are "normal" with my actions. Namely my smoking and my blatant disregard for certain aspects of my care that would probably make my condition more noticeable if I took better care to follow. I've done these things mostly out of some sense of rebellion. End Stage Renal Disease and dialysis come with so many do's and don'ts (mostly don'ts) that to avoid the feeling of totally losing control over my life I chose to keep smoking and not following my diet as closely as I should have been. While these things caused me trouble with my health more than if I had just quit smoking, took my binders when I ate and ate the right things, I wrote off the consequences as the necessary collateral that comes with retaining even a tiny portion of my autonomy over my own life.<br />
<br />
I've come to realize in the past 6 months that disregarding my diet, while freeing, was only hurting me and recently I learned that it gives off an impression of not caring about my health that I never meant to put out there.The smoking I realized was not good for me many, many years ago but that was and has been harder to change though I have. I've quit many times with varying degrees of success and I'm doing it again.<br />
<br />
The bottom line is this (and the hardest part for me to actually write): I need a kidney. I'm not going to get one through the UNOS list of cadaver donors and that doesn't bode well for my life expectancy.<br />
<br />
I know there are concerns beyond my commitment to my own health. What would donating mean to you? It is a major surgery and should not be entered into lightly. Everyone in your family should have input into your decision to help. If, after all the pertinent parties are consulted, you still feel this is something you want to do and you get through the testing you may wonder what consequences giving up a piece of yourself would have on your own health. What is the surgery like? Will I be limited in any way? One question I've heard more than once, do I have to quit drinking? First off, no, you don't have to quit drinking. It'd be nice if you weren't drunk the day of the surgery but beyond that go nuts. The surgery is almost exclusively done laproscopically meaning they make two or three tiny incisions instead of one long one. There will be post-operative pain from the fact that they will fill your abdomen with gas to make room for the laproscopes to maneuver around and grab the kidney. Getting rid of that gas from your body is not painless but you will be prescribed pain killers to help you deal with it. Donating a kidney has never been found to have any effect on getting pregnant or having a healthy baby.<br />
<br />
From the University of Maryland Medical Center website: "<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">risks of donation are similar to those involved with any major surgery, such as bleeding and infection. Death resulting from kidney donation is extremely rare. Current research indicates that kidney donation does not change life expectancy or increase a person’s risks of developing kidney disease or other health problems</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>The following links have every base covered. The answer to any question you can think of is answered on these websites but should a question not covered arise feel free to ask me and if I don't know the answer I will move Heav<span style="font-family: inherit;">en and Earth to get it for you</span>.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.livingdonorsonline.org/kidney/kidneyfaq.htm">http://www.livingdonorsonline.org/kidney/kidneyfaq.htm</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.umm.edu/transplant/kidney/qanda.htm">http://www.umm.edu/transplant/kidney/qanda.htm</a><br />
<br />
If you are interested in helping and want to know what criteria you need to meet, they are fairly straight forward. For an actual you to me transplant you're going to need to be my blood type first off. I'm A positive. After that you will have a lot of blood drawn for matching and to check you out to make sure you are in good health. If you do not match my blood type but still want to give this a go that's great too. We'd do what is called a paired donation. Essentially you would be worked up the same way by the doctors then they'd go out nationwide and find others in the program who have non-matching donors and find one of their donors that I match with. Once found I'd get that kidney then, in as many steps as necessary to complete the chain, your kidney would get donated to someone else in the program, then their donor would donate to someone, and on and on until the person whose donor I matched with would get theirs.<br />
<br />
I don't know what else to say except I understand if you don't feel this is the right decision for you, for any reason. But I have to try. I have to put my actual condition out on Front Street so I knew that all of you knew what I was actually facing. I know this isn't an easy decision and it definitely shouldn't be taken lightly. I understand what I'm asking for is a huge sacrifice and an un-repayable debt. I understand that I'm asking you for my life. Any consideration you give this matter, whether known or unknown by me, is immensely appreciated. Again, any and all questions are welcomed and encouraged. This has to be a very educated decision on your part. Please don't hesitate to contact me at all.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-60770700795081708922013-04-20T01:34:00.000-05:002013-04-20T02:27:57.444-05:00Your kidneys: Beans of stabilityThe old adage that "You don't know what you have until you've lost it" is applicable in so many facets of our lives. In love, friendship, with work or money. But most people never stop to think about how it might apply to their bodies. Sure we all grow older and as we do some of us may find that we have a little less hair, a bit poorer eyesight or the occasional aches and pains that our younger selves never would have dreamed of. But what if a part of you just stopped working altogether? It's not something most would think about. And thankfully, they really don't have to. But I think it would behoove anyone to stop for a minute and think about what any one part of your body does for you and how totally screwed you would be without it. Obviously without a heart you wouldn't be able to live. Same for your lungs. And because of their very obvious necessity those two organs garner all the glory in the game of keeping you alive.<br />
<br />
I think you can see where this is going. I'm here to shill for the often overlooked regulators of so much of our bodies consistency: the kidneys. We all learned in school that the kidneys main functions is to filter our blood and produce urine, the means our body has to get rid of all the bad stuff that you might not even know is in you. But do we really know what that entails. What exactly is it getting rid of? Even I, who have had kidney problems since before I was even born, didn't fully appreciate the importance of the kidneys until I found myself quite literally without any.<br />
<br />
Let's look at some of the unpleasantness that the kidneys get rid of for us. The excess sodium that we all take in every day is filtered and sent packing by those magic beans. If they didn't we'd all bloat up like a Macy's balloon. Hypernatremia is the technical term for this eventuality and it can lead to anything from the aforementioned swelling to lethargy all the way to coma.<br />
<br />
The kidneys are also in charge of regulating the amount of potassium in the body. Do you know what the main ingredient is in that little lethal cocktail they give inmates on death row? Potassium. An overabundance of the stuff will cause every muscle in your body to completely shut down, including your heart. And as I've mentioned the heart is kind of important if you want to keep from shuffling loose your mortal coil.<br />
<br />
How about calcium? Think that stuff is important? Yep. Your kidneys regulate the levels of calcium in your body, as well. Without kidneys you are sure to suffer from what's called hypocalcemia. Because your kidneys no longer work your body lacks sufficient amounts of a vitamin D which helps redirect the calcium in your diet to your bones so you can grow big and strong. Without vitamin D to do that your bones don't get the calcium it needs and we've all seen Sally Fields in enough Boniva commercials to know what that does.<br />
<br />
So where does that calcium go? It has to go somewhere, right? Well another job of the kidneys is to keep the levels of phosphorus in your body in check. Too much phosphorus and your body starts to take that calcium and deposit it into your blood vessels and harden them eventually leading to good times like heart attacks. High phosphorus also leads to deposits of said calcium on your skin and the most irritating itching you could possibly imagine. Where does all that phosphorus come from you ask? Rare foods such as milk, cheese, anything with protein in it, chocolate, beer, ice cream, beans or anything with whole grains.<br />
<br />
Another important and little known function of the kidney is to regulate your blood pressure. By getting rid of the excess water in your body, your kidneys keep your blood pressure at a constant, normal level. When the kidneys shut down you are unable to get rid of that excess fluid you take in in the form of drinks, soups or really anything that melts. 30-50 ounces a day is the recommended intake of fluid for a dialysis patient. That's roughly one Sonic Route 44 drink a day and that's it. Otherwise your body finds places to put anything more than that you may drink. Places such as in between your cells. Or maybe in your lungs. Eventually you will find yourself unable to breathe and your heart unable to beat because of all that fluid crushing it under it's weight and those extra drinks you had are the reason you are on a ventilator in the hospital.<br />
<br />
How do you feel about red blood cells? Kind of important, yeah? Well without functioning kidneys your body doesn't produce enough of the hormone erythropoietin which controls red blood cell production in your body. Without sufficient red blood cells you are prone to anemia which most end stage renal disease patients are. Luckily there is a shot you can take to boost the production of those cells. It's called EPO and it just got Lance Armstrong in a lot of trouble. No entering the Tour de France for me.<br />
<br />
So while the heart and lungs get all the glory it's your kidneys that are doing a lot of the heavy lifting to keep your veins from calcifying, your bones from weakening, your blood pressure from shooting through the roof causing you to stroke out and they keep all that fluid you drink/eat from sitting on your lungs and heart keeping them from actually doing the jobs they are so recognized for.<br />
<br />
Those inconspicuous beans sitting on your sides are what keep everything else in your body in check. So next time you are getting a check up have the doctor give your kidneys a pass and see how they're doing. Thanks to dialysis, losing your kidneys isn't a death sentence like losing other things. At least not immediately, but it can lead to pain, illness and just general unwellness if they aren't looked after. Keeping your kidneys healthy also keeps one off of dialysis which brings with it it's own set of problems and surprises. Just something to think about.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-83761434512115993982013-04-17T01:33:00.000-05:002013-04-17T01:40:26.053-05:006 Degrees of DialysisI'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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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. :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tjIVkFmgSUM/UW5Dywp6BMI/AAAAAAAAAVA/hOshBf4_9_4/s1600/definition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tjIVkFmgSUM/UW5Dywp6BMI/AAAAAAAAAVA/hOshBf4_9_4/s1600/definition.jpg" height="292" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-74717177771308405992013-04-15T00:40:00.003-05:002013-04-16T12:20:14.552-05:00In which the nothing is said to be something and the something is said to be nothing.Well the first time back went well. And by went well I mean nobody said it sucked and, on the internet, that is literally the best you can hope for. Not a lot to report on today. I guess I should tell the story of the little medical scare I had this week.<br />
<br />
Post-treatment on Monday: While waiting for my ride to pick me up, I ran back inside to let the charge nurse know that it was feeling a little uncomfortable when I took in deep breaths. Like when you go running on a really cold morning. Or so I've heard. That particular pain has happened from time to time, but I have a track record with pulmonary ailments getting out of hand since being on dialysis, so I mentioned it. The PA (Physician's Assistant) happened to be there so she walked on over to get in the game. She's nice enough, seems very eager to do a good job. This must be her first dialysis clinic. So they gave me the once over and she ordered, what I call, a 2-shot. Standard chest x-rays, front and side view. I also showed her the rash that had developed on my back. I thought at first it might have just been cystic phosphorus sores, which I'm prone to, because of the fact that I usually completely disregard my renal "diet". But the area started developing differently.<br />
<br />
THE AUTHOR WILL NOW DIGRESS FOR SEEMINGLY NO REASON<br />
<br />
I put the word diet in quotes because I can't, in good conscience, call red meat and rice only a "diet". Not a diet I recognize anyway. For real, I get why there's a regimen. I really do. Too much of any food, with the possible exceptions of said red meat, steamed white rice, and anything made with a "something" substitute it seems, will kill a dialysis patient. I've had my battles in my days. Strawberries.<br />
<br />
Nonetheless, for most of my time on the machine, I've taken the view that just having to be there for the 15 hours a week (It can get that high when you add wait times and make allowances for rides picking you up on either end) is really the most I was willing to do. So I'm gonna have all the Italian food, Mexican food, cheeseburgers and fries that <i>I </i>felt comfortable with.<br />
<br />
AND HERE THE AUTHOR WILL MAKE SENSE OF HIS DIGRESSION<br />
<br />
Once my back started to look like a topographical battle map of the Battle of the Bulge and I itched worse than the mangiest mutt you've ever come across, I decided I'd be the bigger man and start following my diet a tad closer and, more importantly, taking my phosphorus binders when I ate. You see a build up of phosphorus, which is in everything, (I'm serious. Look it up. It's in everything. AND all the best stuff!) draws calcium out of your bones leaving them weaker, as well as, depositing that calcium in your blood vessels and making your skin feel like you've been hugging a kindergarten full of chicken pox patients. How do you avoid this and not starve to death like a Somali, you ask? Phosphorus binders. Take 3 or 4 when you eat a meal. depending on how phosphorus heavy it is, and it will bind to the devilish phosphates in the food and your body will not absorb them in such dangerous levels.<br />
<br />
So to this point all the sores I had, thanks to my reluctance to cut anything from my already sparse diet, had been on my back. Which is why I thought, at first, this disturbance on my back was normal. Normal being relative to me, of course. I had been slipping on my binders a bit lately. But when I saw this new "rash" after a few days wasn't acting the normal way I decided to show the PA. She seemed unconcerned.<br />
<br />
The next day I go get the pictures taken and go home thinking nothing of it. It hurt a little less to take those breaths and I have a history of thinking there are things making me feel horrible when there are not. At least nothing out of the normal. Who needs an exotic reason when I could just chalk it up to the fact that I send my blood to the cleaners 4 times a treatment, 3 days a week? What can I say, I like to be more interesting. Keep people locked in, I guess.<br />
<br />
Early evening on Wednesday while laying on the couch not feeling at all right, I get a call from one of the charge nurses at my clinic. I answered and noticed right away she seemed upset to have to deliver whatever news she had for me. She then proceeds to tell me that on one of the x-rays, a "mass" was seen on my right lung. I lost my breath. (No pun intended) I asked her to repeat herself, or at least I think I must have because she did, and I nonchalantly acknowledged the news while recording the number for the pulmonologist, which the nurse was apparently reading to me. "Oh. She's changed offices." What a weird to think at a time like that, I thought.<br />
<br />
So I hang up and take a minute to collect myself before my next call. Now I had been given bad medical news before, surely, but nothing like this. Being told I had to go on dialysis was certainly hard to hear. Both times. But not once had death immediately popped in my head the way it had just five minutes ago. Especially untimely death. So at that point I just let myself lose it a touch and I called a very good friend of mine, then my parents, to deliver the news. I wanted to call a few more people but I figured that the least the number of people I told was also the least number of people who had to worry about it. I suppose by that logic I should have just kept the news to myself. But, I think, when a man of any age hears that he may have cancer he just wants to talk to the woman closest to him and/or his mom. So I did both. Because when ill, I can be a baby. Ask around. It's true. Talking to these trusted people helped tremendously.<br />
<br />
So the call the next morning, the very first thing in the morning as I did not sleep, was supposed to be to schedule an appointment ASAP to get a second opinion. As it turned out, that second opinion wouldn't be available until Tuesday. Yeah, that wasn't going to sit well with me so I called my dialysis clinic, they got in touch with my nephrologist and he told me to go to the ER and tell them what was going on and they'd get me some answers.<br />
<br />
So I did. And the climactic ending to all this waiting and taking stock of a life driven way, way, WAY down the path clearly not intended? They run a CT scan on my chest with contrast and find nothing. As in the contraction of the phrase "not a thing". Zilch. Nothing but air. He didn't even ask me if I had smoked. Maybe he could tell that. But that didn't even seem to bother him. The doctor came in and announced to the relief of all, and confusion of me, that there wasn't a spot, a nodule, or a mass of any kind anywhere near my lungs. Must have been a mistake on the part of whoever read the x-rays originally, or took them.<br />
<br />
So not only didn't I have cancer, I have a pretty clean bill of health going on in the lung department. That's great news! Hey doc, can you take a look at this "rash" on my back and the one that has recently developed on my chest? Oh that? Looks like shingles.<br />
<br />
Fuck. Well that figures. I know I am supposed to think, "Hey the mistake x-ray led me to the ER to have the shingles found in very early stages." And I guess that's one way of looking at it. Another way, the way I usually choose, is that I have something else to deal with on top of the whole dialysis thing. Because that's gotten too easy. I needed a challenge in my life...<br />
<br />
So now I'm on very strong ant-viral medicine for a week to try to nip the shingles in the bud hoping they work because my mom just had them and they don't sound awesome. Hopefully they work and I'm just subjected to these two areas of irritation and I can be done with it. I would count myself supremely lucky is that's how it unfolds. I've counted myself "supremely lucky" probably four times in this life and most of those situations have involved meeting a woman. But we'll see. Here's hoping this week goes smoother, yeah?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-87242507096859789912013-04-14T02:32:00.001-05:002013-04-14T02:32:02.662-05:00Don't I know you?<div style="text-align: left;">
And I'm back! New name, new look, same information nobody asked for! But seriously folks, I am back from my self-imposed blog exile and this time I'm back to do something a tad different that I had been. I will still be blogging on my experiences on dialysis and going through the transplant process but I'm also going to talk about the ancillary and auxiliary parts of my life that dialysis and kidney failure have affected. The reason for the change, honestly, is that just sharing about the experiences of dialysis and the transplant process got very stale and monotonous for me. You go to to dialysis, they hook you up, you sit there for four hours, sometimes you get sick, sometimes you don't. As far as transplant, they see you once, run every test on you and, in my case, never call you again. So, you could see how even a writer as loquacious and rambling as myself could find it hard to summon more than 2 or 3 ways to tell you about those experiences. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Broaden your scope, my boy!", I thought to myself. Yes, I do refer to myself as "my boy" from time to time. So broaden my scope I've done. I will now be writing on pretty much anything that inspires me to sit in front of this laptop and bore ya'll with a story or two. After all, the only thing I do is go to dialysis. The reason I don't do anything else? Dialysis. Accordingly, I will use the free time kidney failure has "afforded" me by doing something I know (OK, think) I'm good at: write. I hope you guys enjoy the new direction. Any newbies snooping around here for the first time, feel free to go back and check out the old entries please and let me know what you think. Bye now.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-5716810908585278392011-06-15T07:58:00.000-05:002011-06-15T07:58:00.085-05:00A Close CallThere are very few things in this world that can still put a genuine smile on my face. My niece is a lot of those ways. But when I recieved a phone call at 1:30 am Sunday morning from the hospital saying they've matched me to a kidney I gotta say I was smiling like a fat kid lost in Hershey, PA.<br />
<br />
To "get matched" what happens is that a donor kidney comes available and it is run against the database of candidates waiting for a kidney. It matches candidates based on the number of antigens it matches. The human body has 6 antigens, 3 from each parent, and basically they create the antibodies that go out through your body and make sure there's nobody there who shouldn't be there. As long as enough antigens from each person matches, I get that phone call.<br />
<br />
So the nurse checked up on my health, told me not to eat and get some rest. One more test to do and that should be back in a few hours. They said they could have me in the OR that night as long as the last test goes well. <br />
<br />
The antibody test.<br />
<br />
My heart dropped. I've been down this road. This test never goes well for me.<br />
<br />
What they do is take your blood/antibodies, mix it with the donors'. Either they get along and a transplant is on or my guys go on a Boondocks Saints-style rampage.<br />
<br />
Ideally you wanna have no antibodies in you but we all get sick, so we have some. On a scale of 1-100 ,my last antibody count was 73. What this means is that roughly 3/4 of all donor kidneys will get the Macmanus brothers treatment from Jeremy and my antibodies. Which is what happened this weekend. <br />
<br />
So the call back was a huge let down but if there is a plus side to all of this it's that I am rather high up on the transplant list. How was your weekend? <br />
<br /><p align="right" style="font-size: xx-small">posted from Bloggeroid</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-28931185698182035212010-10-29T00:08:00.000-05:002010-10-29T00:08:55.928-05:00The Angry Old Man I've BecomeSomething has been bothering me recently, and I wonder if anyone else on dialysis has ever had this experience. I've found myself much angrier than usual when I go to dialysis. I'm pissed at the staff, though I try to keep it to myself and I'm pissed at just being there. I know that's probably normal but I don't know why I'm just now experiencing these feelings. I've been on dialysis now for 21 months now. The anger and bitterness should have been something I felt at the outset and then once I accepted things it should have passed. But instead I took everything in stride as I usually try to do with my health and now as soon as I walk into the clinic I'm in a horrible mood. I get angry at those who run the clinic because they are on this rampage of doing things by the book and not ignoring every bit of minutia in their "handbook" about how to administer dialysis, with no thought of the individual needs of the patients. We all don't have the same symptoms/needs as dialysis/ESRD patients. I'm sure my anger is petty and juvenile but it's honest and I really can't do anything about it. I don't want to be angry, I don't want to be bitter about my place but it washes over me like a tidal surge and it just controls me. The second I leave the clinic after my treatment I'm my normal self but for those 4 plus hours I'm in there I'm on the razor's edge and could snap on anyone in there. Anyway, I've had this going on now for a few weeks and I can't do anything about it. I don't like feeling that way, I'm normally a pretty happy guy where my health is concerned. I've dealt with ill health for my entire life and have learned to roll with the punches. The last time I was this angry was after my transplant failed and I was told, as I lay in my hospital bed, that I would need to go back on dialysis as soon as possible which meant guiding a wire into my jugular vein into my heart for emergency dialysis access. That was my 30th birthday, why what did you get for your 30th birthday? Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm just now feeling the cumulative anger I should have felt all these years when I got bad health news. I wish I knew what it was and how to fix it, I know the people at the clinic are just there to do a job and to keep me alive but I really resent them and feel so bitter when I'm in there. Just something I've been thinking about. If any of you reading this have been or are on dialysis currently and have had these feelings I'd love to hear your story and how you dealt with it. It's gotten to the point that I don't even want to go anymore. I said that half jokingly the other day and the nurse practitioner told me that I had to come and that there wasn't an alternative, as if I just got there and didn't know that. I told her, "I don't even care." It's gotten to that point. I'm so angry at dialysis I don't want to go and I don't care what that would mean. I still go, I make myself, but I need to get a grip on these feelings. Sorry for the depressing post y'all. Like I said, the other 20 hours out of the day I'm pretty happy, considering. It's just those 4 that I'm in that building, on that machine. As always, I wish you all good health and much love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-84314951622947520922010-07-25T14:11:00.002-05:002010-07-25T18:22:40.051-05:00Remember Me?Hello all. It's been awhile, I know, but I made a promise to myself when I started this blog and that was that I wouldn't just post banality or what was on my mind on a given day every week. I said I'd only post when I had something to say about the subject of this blog and not any other time. So, 2 months since my last post I'm back. <br />
<br />
In the two months since I've talked to you all last I've joined a gym and started to get into some semblance of good shape. I really like the gym but not really a fan of the money I have to spend on it but nothing worthwhile in this life is free I suppose. Someone has to make money off our lives, right? What would we do without capitalism. Sorry, that's for another blog. Getting in shape has been great, I'm still not eating great but that's something I still can't do. Anyone who is on dialysis will tell you that one of the hardest parts of the experience is the diet. Low potassium, low phosphorus, low sodium, low taste. It's the worst. I'm already a picky eater, ask anyone who's cooked for me, so I already went ahead and cut half of the food in the world out of my diet just from my preferences and now the dietitians are harping on me to go ahead and eliminate the other half. At least the ones that taste good anyway.<br />
<br />
No potatoes. Come on I'm half Irish. Really? No dairy, cheese, beans, peanut butter. You're killing me. No soda. Eh. Half the fruits in the world and probably a quarter of the vegetables. So really I'm left with meat. That's it. Meat and bread, but no whole wheat because that's bad too. Meat and bread, nothing on the meat and nothing to season it with.<br />
<br />
So that's the diet they are trying to push on me. No thanks. I know it seems petty and immature but no. I'm not doing it. I'll cut back on some of these things, I have no problem with that, but I'm not eliminating anything on that list. It's bad enough I'm on dialysis. It hampers my ability to get a real job, be out in the sun longer than a half an hour, or just live a normal life and now that my kidney function has basically hit rock bottom it's trying to eat into what I eat. I have to draw a line somewhere. OK, I don't <i>have</i> to. I <i>could</i> just be an adult and comply with the rules, but I'm not going to. I've been on the transplant list for a year and a half now, and I know that doesn't seem like very long compared to others who have been on for years, but that's the point. I've been on for a year and a half and haven't even gotten a sniff of a kidney so chances are I'm gonna be on this list for a few more years and in that case I don't think I can give up the few foods I enjoy eating or just the simple freedom of eating whatever the hell I want to.<br />
<br />
The intention of this blog wasn't to do this much complaining but clearly this is an issue that really gets to me. I've gotten to a place while on dialysis that I'm sick of it. I'm increasingly less patient with being on the machine every day and more aware every day that I haven't heard from the transplant people in about a year. I'm just coming out of my myopia and realizing that this is gonna be a very long process and that during the process you don't get better you get worse. My kidney function has decreased significantly since I started dialysis and while the washed out feeling afterwards isn't as frequent, I am starting to develop other problems more often. Tachycardia, Brachycardia, a couple bouts with pneumonia. To sum up I'm sick to death of this process.<br />
<br />
Since I'm clearly entering a bitter phase about dialysis I will probably be back to blogging more frequently. I think if I don't I may choose to lash out in a different way; getting angry for no reason or even skipping treatments, and neither of those things help anyone. I know this is just a phase and I really am happy with every other aspect of my life, just not the health part. But I guess that's to be expected. And though I'm a little down these days I still wish you, my readers, good health and great love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-40556955840087711902010-05-20T14:58:00.003-05:002010-05-20T17:10:48.454-05:00Kidneyversary?That's right, I've made up a word. I've seen it done elsewhere. It actually got someone an A once in college so back off. :) Anyway, I'm temporarily out of my blog hiding hole to pen this thank you note of sorts.<br />
<br />
On May 20, 2004 Jeremy Duncan gave me one of his kidneys so that I could be off dialysis and get on with my life and do so healthy. It's been 6 years and I've yet to figure out a proper way to thank him. That's not to say I haven't thanked him. I've done so ad infinitum. But it's still not enough. So I've taken to mentioning his act of heroism and kindness at least once a year on the anniversary of our respective surgeries. I've already mentioned him on Facebook and told friends of today's significance. All that's left to do is to say a little something here so that the entire world can read it.<br />
<br />
So thanks again Jeremy. As I wrote on Facebook I hope, one day, someone does something for you that is at least half as nice as what you did for me and I hope that someone is me. Your gift didn't last as long as anyone would have hoped but that doesn't, for an instant, diminish the thoughtful, kind, loving place inside you where the gesture came from. You are a good person, a good friend and a good soul. My friend you have done much more than put a down payment on your spot in Heaven.<br />
<br />
Today I am filled with a grateful feeling but also that of remorse. I feel terrible that on this 6th year since the transplant I'm not celebrating a healthy, working kidney. The doctors couldn't give me a reason the kidney ultimately failed so all I can do is bear the responsibility. <br />
<br />
Thank you again brother for the gift of time you gave me. 4 good, healthy years I had because of you. Healthier than I'd ever been in my entire life. All the memories, good and bad, that I accrued in that time are all due to you and I'm forever grateful.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-20886449552409658032010-02-22T10:08:00.000-06:002010-02-22T10:08:12.563-06:00Kidney Paired Donation Program A new federally funded pilot program has been created to find out if kidney paired donation, which pairs eligible live donors with patients who have a donor that is not medically compatible, can make more transplants possible. They are also studying the feasibility of starting a nationwide KPD program. Below is the story from the UNOS website.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.unos.org/news/newsDetail.asp?id=1344">http://www.unos.org/news/newsDetail.asp?id=1344</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-66524085259443705192010-02-20T16:14:00.000-06:002010-02-20T16:14:50.682-06:00Questions?So it seems I'm running out of ideas for what to write about. Well, not ideas but good ideas. So here's what I'm gonna do, what every writer who wants to cash it in does: I'm asking for questions. If any of you have something you want to ask about dialysis, transplant, or anything else related just email or leave it as a comment on this post and I'll do an entry on it. No question is wrong, no question is too personal so go ahead and fire away. If I actually get any questions I'll start answering them at the beginning of March. Hope to hear from all of you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-85675327996511861122010-02-01T13:11:00.004-06:002010-02-01T14:14:17.257-06:00Happy New Year?OK, so it's a little late for a "Happy New Year" but it is my first entry of 2010. It had been a pretty quiet start to the new decade, just the way I wanted it, that is until just recently when I woke up on a Sunday to find that my ability to take a breath had been diminished greatly. Not wanting to miss the Cowboys/Vikings game, I waited a few hours to consult anyone. Needless to say, I ended up in the ER and subsequently, Northeast Methodist, with my very own case of pneumonia.<br />
<br />
Pneumonia is an accumulation of fluid in your lungs which in turn get infected because it just kind of sits there stagnant. It's a problem that is forever lurking over our collective shoulders. Pneumonia's epidemiology, or prevalence in hemodialysis patients, hasn't been concretely proven but in a study conducted between 1996 and 2001 Medicare tracked over 200,000 cases of pneumonia in dialysis patients. (<a href="http://ndt.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/content/short/23/2/680">http://ndt.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/content/short/23/2/680</a> ) <br />
<br />
So after 3 days of breathing treatments, IV antibiotics and far too much swabbing, I was released and I've been feeling much better lately. After a year on dialysis I've kind of entered a glide pattern. Nothing really changes too much from treatment to treatment. You have the occasional fluctuation of your dry weight that needs to be corrected but other than that it's pretty standard stuff day in, day out.<br />
<br />
I guess if I want this blog to be somewhat educational on the processes of dialysis and not just an unsolicited look into my life, I should explain what a "dry weight" is. Dry weight is simply your weight with as little excess fluid in your body as possible. Basically, in a person with normal kidney function the dry weight would be their weight after they've gone to the bathroom.<br />
<br />
Because a failed kidney cannot filter the blood properly one consequence is that excess fluid will build up in the tissues, including the lungs, of a patient. This is called fluid overload and without treatment it can lead to the patient literally drowning in their body. Personally, it's not a great feeling. So in order to assure that this particularly uncomfortable death does not come to any of us, along with having our levels of potassium, phosphorous, urea and creatinine lowered, they also pull off as much excess fluid from the blood as possible.<br />
<br />
So that's what the dry weight is, the lowest weight they can get you to by pulling off the extra fluid from your blood. Maybe you ask yourself, "why does he say 'as much as possible'?" And to you I say, good question but this isn't a classroom, keep that to yourself. I say "as much as possible" because there is something called the "dialysis hangover" or "dialysis washout." It is caused by too much fluid being pulled off in one treatment, or can be caused by the fluid being pulled off too quickly. "Dialysis hangover" is usually characterized by these symptoms, but not necessarily all at once: headaches, nausea, muscle cramps, a drop in blood pressure and fatigue. These complications can resolve within minutes or they could last for a day or so.<br />
<br />
Maintaining your dry weight, while one of the most essential jobs performed by the dialysis treatment, is also the one that will affect the patient the most. There are ways to avoid the "hangover," mostly they involve proper fluid control on the part of we the patient. Basically, knowing your weight, knowing how much fluid you are taking in between treatments and not going over your allotted amount. This sounds easy enough but the recommended fluid intake between treatments for most patients is 32-50 fluid ounces per day, or 64-100 fluid ounces total. 32 fluid ounces is roughly equivalent to a bottle and a half of soda a day. An average person with normal kidney function has a fluid intake of 100 fluid ounces a day. That 32-50 fluid ounces a day doesn't just include water, juice or whatever you drink, it also includes anything liquid you could have. Soup, ice cream, basically any food that is liquid or can melt will count against your daily allotted fluid intake. Now, that 32 ounces a day rule isn't fast and firm. If a patient has residual kidney function that will allow them some wiggle room with their fluids. That's something I have been blessed with for this first year I've been on. I think this latest bout with pneumonia is the death knell for my willy nilly fluid intake.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's important to know your weight and to weigh yourself regularly at home to make sure you are not gaining too much between treatments. Ideally they would like patients to gain no more than 5% of their dry weight. For me and my 81.5 kilograms that would be a gain of 4 kg in the day and a half between treatments. Not knowing your dry weight, or keeping up with it at home can lead to the fluid overload but it could also lead to the patient just having a little fluid left in the body which, if not caught, can sit there long enough to turn into the pneumonia that lands someone, let's say me, in the hospital.<br />
<br />
Dialysis is a partnership. The dialysis nurses and techs are responsible for as much of the patients' care as the patient is. Most dialysis patients know what temperature their dialysis machine should be set to, or how much Heparin, an anti-coagulant, they should get. Knowing these details will ensure that nothing is inadvertently missed by those taking care of you.<br />
<br />
Starting with this blog, I'm setting up a new structure. Because dialysis can be the headquarters for tedium, at least from the standpoint of the patient, I'm going to be writing an entry on the first of every month that will cover everything pertinent that happened the month before. It will just assure that I actually come with something interesting for yall to read. I will still write if something particularly emergent occurs and I am moved to write about it immediately. With that I close the book on January 2010, month 13 on dialysis. Until next month, I wish you all good health and great love.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-21414157024840515822009-12-08T17:28:00.004-06:002009-12-08T18:05:43.156-06:00Mortality and Morbidity<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It's been a week to remember, or forget, I haven't decided yet. It's funny, in death I've learned a lot about my cousin. He touched so many lives, more than I truly imagined. In reading the messages left to him and the family I've found out things about him, some things I knew others I didn't. He was, to his friends, a source of happiness and humor when they were down. He never had an unkind word for anyone and was always there for his friends. This made me glad to hear. These are things I try to be also and I like to think that maybe that's in our blood. I'm very proud of the man and friend he was. I'm also thankful for the time I had with him and the things I've learned about him this week.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All this death around this week has inevitably gotten me thinking about my own situation. In 2006, 20.1% of American dialysis patients died, either of heart failure or infection. I'm not sure the numbers are much better today. It's not something I've ever really thought about. I've always assumed that I go to dialysis every day and I'll be fine. But that's not necessarily how it works, just how it's <i>supposed</i> to work. I'm not saying that I will ever be one of the 20%, I'm just saying I think it's time to start thinking about it. I've thought a lot about what my legacy would be if something were to happen. It's not a good thought. I mean, I know people would be sad and would mourn and whatnot, but when that's all done what would people remember of me? Hopefully, like Josh, people would remember me as someone who brought humor and comfort to his friends. I'd also like to be remembered as someone who was intelligent and used that intelligence for good (and evil? muah-ha-ha-ha!). I mostly want to be remembered as someone who had a roadblock put in his way and, <b><i>eventually</i></b>, got around it and made something of himself.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Anyway, these are things that I'm sure float through the mind of most dialysis patients at least once. Now is my time. I've never really given a thought to my not being around anymore. But with the sudden passing of a loved one it will inevitably take center stage. So, this will be my last entry concerning the happenings of the past week and my morbid thoughts that followed. The next blog (coming soon?) will get back to regularly scheduled programming. Maybe an episode of The Greatest American Hero, that was a good show. So, until then I sincerely, as always, wish you all good health and great love.<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-22747550837977712632009-12-03T02:31:00.000-06:002009-12-03T02:31:38.006-06:00JoshuaTonight I lost a family member for the first time since I was 12 years old. My youngest cousin Josh and another cousin of ours, Robert were both involved in a car accident up in Ohio. Sadly, Josh didn't make it and I'm praying as hard as I can for Robert. I don't know yet how I'm gonna cope with the idea that "Joshie" isn't around. I've never felt this kind of loss as an adult and it's a more soul crushing feeling than I'd ever imagined. He was 25 years old and had his whole life in front of him and I have lost a part of my soul for ever. Some of my most cherished memories have included him because they have included me hanging with my family. When I lived in Ohio I spent many days off and weekends with Robert and Joshua. One day we were all at my Aunt Barbara and Uncle Danny's house and there was a ton of snow on the ground and the three of us had a snow ball fight that lasted an hour if it lasted a minute. Being from Texas, I hadn't really had a lot of snowball fights and I just remember all the fun we had, and because Josh was the youngest we inevitably ganged up on him. We did that a lot. But he knew we loved him, I even told him so. We picked on him because he was the youngest but we always included him, even if we were made to. :)<br />
These memories are great and it's important to tell them because it keeps his memory alive. And over time I will talk with relatives and we will tell stories and reminisce but right now all I feel is pain for a lost loved one. Anyway, I just wanted to...I'm not sure what I wanted to do, I kinda just started writing. Anyway, I love you Josh, and you'll be missed very much.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-83318784354653906002009-11-30T13:22:00.014-06:002009-11-30T20:50:55.901-06:00Thanksgiving<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Yeah I took a week and a half off. It's not like you all are paying for a subscription. :P<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">A lot of times, when I'm sitting in the dialysis chair and my calves are cramping or I'm dry heaving, I can't imagine there is a whole lot that I have to be thankful for. But when the season comes around and I really start to think about it, I realize that I have plenty of reasons not to be sullen and "grinch-y." I have a very loving family: my dad George; my mom Jan; my sister Sarah; and the only person I allow to hit me and walk away, my 2-year old niece, Mia. I also have great friends who would do anything for me and they are far too numerous to name but you know who are, and yeah, I'll name you anyway: Justin, Jeremy, Johnny, Kelly, James, Mindy, Laura, and there are more and I'm not just saying that to make myself look popular. I am thankful everyday for yall, I wouldn't be where I am without any of my family or friends. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The newest name on that list has done a lot this year to end up in the esteemed company she finds herself in, honest and true men every one of them. Even Mindy. My friend Laura from the great Commonwealth of Virginia has done a lot for me in the short time I've known her. One thing I'm very grateful for, she's thrown some work my way that I can do from home since I have transportation constraints. Greater even than the chance to earn some money, she stepped forward to be tested to be an organ donor for me. Sadly, my antibodies are throwing a party that they are letting very few people into. It's like most parties when I was in college. When her blood cells and mine got together it wasn't a pretty sight. When you've already had one transplant, you have the first donor's antibodies as well. So my antibodies and Jeremy's got together and put a hefty beat down on Laura's blood cells. It's one reason it's so hard to match repeat recipients. But, undeterred, she entered into the Paired Organ Donation program with me and her donation of a kidney to someone else will enable me to get a kidney a lot faster than the traditional way would have. I've mentioned the program before and I have links up to the hospital's website. Links, like this one: <a href="http://www.texastransplant.org/kidney/kidney_incompatible.html">http://www.texastransplant.org/kidney/kidney_incompatible.html</a> <br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That act means so much to me, more so than I'll be able to capture in this blog. First of all, for the second time I'm having someone step up and offer up a part of themselves to me, so that I can live a normal life. Most people don't get to have one living donor, I'm gonna have two. That just doesn't seem fair to me. I don't really feel I'm worthy of that kind of sacrifice. I didn't feel I was the first time with Jeremy and I certainly feel even less worthy my second time in this rodeo. I am amazed any time someone offers to be a donor. Not that it happens to me a lot, I'm just saying that simply the offer floors me and renders me speechless. To actually go through the process the way Laura has, and do it so enthusiastically, makes me want to be a better human being because I'm clearly not living up to the standard that she is setting.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: left;">It's important, especially when you are in a situation like I am, to find things to be thankful for--all year, not just the last month or so. Not only because it's not a good idea to go through life ungrateful, it can be unhealthy, but it's also good to appreciate what you have because there are others out there with so little and they are so happy with their lives. That's another gift Laura has given to me. With the promise of a new kidney, she has given me something very special to be thankful for and with that gift comes an opportunity. An opportunity that I squandered before. To not take life for granted like I did last time and to live up to the high standards that she and Jeremy have set for all of us as people. I wish all of you a belated Happy Thanksgiving, and as always wish you good health and great love.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-60066104857942783212009-11-20T14:20:00.003-06:002009-11-20T14:48:26.707-06:00"For Some Reason We Just Always Hung Out"-Jeremy Duncan<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have now delved into my own psyche and soul significantly enough that I've decided to turn the spotlight outward onto someone else. My donor is known to those readers who are related to me or who know me personally, well mostly. But to any readers out there to whom I am a stranger, my donor is one as well. He's been my friend since 1991 but I had no idea 18 years ago what kind of friend he would turn out to be.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">I met Jeremy Duncan in 6th grade after moving to a new school for the first time since 2nd grade. That was actually a good stretch of time for a military family. Jeremy was just another one of the new kids I didn't bother to try to meet because I was pissed I had to leave my previous school. So when junior high rolled around the next year I eased up a bit and started, trying at least, to make friends. Several of the friends I did make that year I have to this day. Jeremy was one of them. We had gym together as I recall and he lived in my neighborhood. Anyway, I'm not gonna recount the history of our friendship in this entry. Nobody cares to hear it, I'm sure. And frankly, some of ya'll lived through it and don't care. Anyway, the story I do want to tell is the one that got me a new kidney. All of you have heard it or were there but I think you will agree it bears repeating. To me it's like the stories that Jewish families tell over Passover seder, or the Irish tell at wakes after a couple of Jameson's.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> Stories that recall times past, loss and gain. Triumph and tragedy. Well this is his triumph story, one of many he has, but the one I will tell over dinners for years.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">In 2003, Jeremy was a 1st Lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps as part of the United States invasion and occupation of Iraq. He lived in Southern California and we didn't see much of each other because his parents had moved off to Indiana sometime before this so he didn't really ever come back to San Antonio. We talked on the phone and on the computer quasi-regularly. I talked to him before he was deployed overseas -- that was February 2003 -- and I told him that I would be starting dialysis any time, which he was sad to hear. That was also the phone call when he told me that he and his wife, Tiffany, would be expecting their first child. That was big news. He was the first one of our group of friends to have a baby. It was a weird idea that any of us would be responsible for a human life. But he's turned out to be an outstanding husband and father, which shouldn't have been such a surprise. We talked a bit more because it would be the last chance to talk before he went off to war, a prospect I was more concerned about than my first time on dialysis, which was just over the horizon. Thankfully, he came back no worse for the wear and he gave me a call soon after his arrival back home to let me know he was home and to see how I was feeling. I had told him that I had started dialysis and that I was slowly adjusting to it, but that it sucked worse than anything I'd ever known. Sucked worse than Godfather III. It was <i>that</i> bad.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, then he asked how I would get a new kidney. I explained to him the cadaver donor process of being on a list and essentially waiting for someone with very similar biochemistry to die. Otherwise, I told him, I could in theory get a living person to donate a kidney to me, if we matched blood and tissue types. Unfortunately, the best candidates for such a procedure, my family members, were either not blood type matches or not in a position, health-wise, to donate. That's something I never thought twice about. It never bothered me that everyone in my family was ineligible to donate. I never thought about a living donation because it seemed like way too much to ask of someone. It still does. Jeremy is a naturally curious guy. He likes to know the reason behind everything and how everything works, so when he asked what the process of getting tested to be a donor was, I didn't think he’d actually use the information I gave him.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Well, I didn't hear from Jeremy again for a couple months, save for the day his beautiful daughter, Zoe, was born. When I did hear back from him at the end of 2003, he gave me news that I had never in a million years expected to hear. He told me that he had been to a doctor on base and asked about getting tested to be a transplant donor. He needed to know which hospital I was listed at so the blood work could be sent. I was floored. I was almost instantly brought to tears over the gesture and to this day I've never again been that surprised.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> So I gave him the hospital’s information and again we didn't talk for a few months.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">The next time I heard from him, he called to tell me he got a phone call from his doctor informing him that he was a suitable match for me and that he could give me a kidney. He asked what I wanted to do. He was more than willing to do it if I felt OK with it. Again, I was speechless. It was like winning the lottery but having the winnings come out of a loved one’s bank account. All at once I wanted to tell him to get out here now and let's do this, but also I wanted to tell him thanks but no thanks, I couldn't do it.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">I really mulled over this decision more than I thought I would if and when I ever got a call like this. I was scared for him, he'd never had surgery in his life, and I was scared for me because my best friend was giving me a gift that I could never repay in a million lifetimes and I didn't know what to do with that feeling. It's been over 5 years and the kidney no longer works and I still have those feelings. Even more so because it turned out not to last very long.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Obviously, I called him back and said "yes, let's do this" and 2 months later he was in San Antonio getting his final work up and the rest is history. The news media "somehow got wind" of the story and we were briefly local celebrities. We even did a CNN interview (which is posted on my first entry "Pilot") and one on The Morning Show on CBS with Harry Smith. One tidbit that never ended up on TV or in print was about the moments before we were both wheeled into surgery. If you've ever had any kind of surgery, which he hadn't, you know they usually give you an injection that they call "a margarita." It's a powerful sedative to relax you as they are wheeling you in and putting you on the table, basically doing everything before they put the mask on you and telling you to count back from 100. I, frankly, love the "margarita" and look forward to it every time I have surgery. Well, on this occasion I must have been abnormally nervous because when they injected the sedative I immediately began to dry heave. Just for a second, but it was long enough for Jeremy to see. He was literally right next to me in another gurney. He saw me wretch and he lost it. He was saying, "don't give me that! I don't want what you gave him!" I had recovered and started laughing at his outburst. The nurse calmed him down and they gave him the "margarita" and he instantly became Cheech Marin. We were laughing over the dumbest stuff and he was telling me things like, "man I'm so stoned." It was hilarious.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Not nearly as hilarious as when they rolled me into post-op, and a still drugged up Jeremy blurted out, "Hey, that guy has my kidney!" I don't remember it, but I heard about it later. Everyone thought it was hilarious. I would have, too. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Well, that's the story of my first transplant. To this day, I'm still amazed at Jeremy's sacrifice and even though it didn't last as long as everyone wanted it to, I'm still thankful every day for his gift. I am still awed that he would do this for me, but the God's honest truth is that Jeremy is the kind of person who would have done it for a stranger. Anyway, I don't want this to get overly sappy so I will just say that he is a great friend, a great person and I thank God that we had gym together in 7th grade.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">The point of this story was not only to let the blogosphere know what kind of person Jeremy Duncan is, it's also to point out that any of you reading this can be a donor. It doesn't have to be a kidney nec</span><span style="font-size: small;">essarily, it can be as simple as blood plasma. Blood and tissue donations are sorely needed all over the country. 45 minutes of your time could save the lives of up to 7 people. I leave you with that thought and, as always, wish you good health and great love. I also wish for all of you at least one Jeremy Duncan in your life.</span><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-6935446124843029612009-11-18T10:03:00.017-06:002009-11-19T16:20:02.601-06:00The Crackpot and These Women<div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">So another installment is in high demand apparently. And by high demand I mean 1 or 2 people are asking me to write a new one soon. I had a great weekend, real laid back and low key and dialysis really didn't give me any problems or ideas on Monday. It was in and out, as it were.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> So, what should I write about? That is the question that is plaguing me. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Time. <br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> You know, I don't ever think about getting a new kidney. I don't. But what I do think about is </span><i><span style="font-size: small;">what I'm going to do with it</span></i><span style="font-size: small;">. It's like when you were a kid and you knew, at least I did, that you were gonna get a check from your grandparents for your birthday. So in the weeks or days leading</span><span style="font-size: small;"> up</span><span style="font-size: small;"> to your birthday you never thought about the check that you knew was coming, but rather what you were gonna spend grandma</span><span style="font-size: small;">’s</span><span style="font-size: small;"> and grandpa</span><span style="font-size: small;">’</span><span style="font-size: small;">s</span><span style="font-size: small;"> money on.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> That's what it's like, at least for me personally, being on the transplant list. It's not if, it's when</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> and it's not even when</span><span style="font-size: small;"> as much as </span><span style="font-size: small;">it's</span><span style="font-size: small;"> after<i> that</i> you think about. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> When I g</span><span style="font-size: small;">ot</span><span style="font-size: small;"> my first kidney I was told</span><span style="font-size: small;"> it would be</span><span style="font-size: small;"> 20-25 years until I would start back down the transplant road again. That was probably the worst thing anyone could have told me. I was 26 years old and I had at least 20 years of health in front of me. And if this "health" thing is anything like what I was feeling the first day out of the hospital, I could really enjoy it. I had never, literally never, felt so good in my life.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> However, the knowledge that I had 20 years to feel like this before it was gone was telling me to enjoy life now. "Make these 20 years the most fun of your life." That's what I was hearing in my head. My brain was telling me to go out and spend kidney money I didn't have. Which I did. I should have at least tried to go back to school, I belong in school and it's my goal for the future to get back and </span><b><span style="font-size: small;">NEVER</span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> leave. I will get every degree they can offer, then turn around and teach those subjects. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> So in lieu of going to school I...</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Yeah, I'm sitting here racking my brain and I can't think of anything I did with my life, and kidney, in the 4 years of good health </span><span style="font-size: small;">that </span><span style="font-size: small;">I had. I mean I did some things; I went to Vegas, I got engaged and subsequently unengaged, I worked crappy minimum wage jobs. But I didn't </span><i><span style="font-size: small;">do</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"> anything. I assumed, which I do a lot, that I had time. I would have time for school, I'd have time to graduate and get a good job, meet someone and start a family.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was wrong. I did not have that time. But I did have enough time to do something, if not everything. But I floated on the cloud of good health and just went where it took me. If I had known I only had 4 years before I'd be back in hospitals and 5 years before I was back on dialysis</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> I would have done things so much differently.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">But you can't see into the future and you shouldn't spend too much time on the past. The present is what you must see because it's fading so fast.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Just remember that time is a fluid thing. It flows past you before you know it, so enjoy what you have now. Enjoy what life has given you and don't waste it. You never know when the river of time will end in a fall. As always, I wish you, my readers, good health and great love. And time.</span><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-8061198797275117722009-11-13T13:32:00.013-06:002009-11-19T18:01:26.357-06:00Sgt. David M. Nessley, Sr. USMC<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">When I get down on myself, which is a lot, I try to remember those who have it worse than I do. I wish it were harder but there are many out there worse off than I am. I think of the nurse at my clinic who is on chemo, all the people who don't qualify for a transplant and have to be on dialysis the rest of their lives, or the people who need a heart and don't have the possibility of something like dialysis that can keep them going until that life-saving transplant. Most of all, though, I think about my grandpa. I’d rather stay on dialysis the rest of my life than go through what he has to go through. My grandpa has dementia and hardly remembers who any of us are anymore. I saw him last year and I was told that it might be the last time I see him because he was getting bad. For some reason, in my brain, I couldn't accept that. Now I realize that, while I had some good moments with my grandfather last year, I didn't take the appropriate amount of time to tell him how I felt about him. Whether he would have processed it or not, and he likely wouldn't have, I still wish I had told him what he meant to me. My other 2 grandparents died when I was a kid and they both went suddenly so I didn't get the opportunity I probably lost last summer.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CUo2eVFAUPI/Sv20IY4dbOI/AAAAAAAAACE/ognVKI46SIw/s1600-h/SgtNessley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CUo2eVFAUPI/Sv20IY4dbOI/AAAAAAAAACE/ognVKI46SIw/s320/SgtNessley.jpg" /></a></span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">I wanted to tell my grandpa, who was a Marine Sergeant in World War II and a Bronze Star winner for bravery, that he was one of my heroes. But I’m not the one who has it worse in this story -- my grandfather does. He is a perfectly healthy human being who eats, sleeps, and lives in a world he increasingly forgets about. That’s a kind of hell that I've never experienced even in all my years of hospitals, surgeries, and organ failures.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">I've lost my grandfather and that's sad for me, but what's worse is that I've lost him while he is still alive. Being hooked to a machine 12 hours out of the week is really small potatoes when it's stacked up against things like that. There's no machine that's gonna make him remember his son, daughter, grandkids, or friends.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">In the grand scheme of things, I'll get a new kidney and move on with my life. But there will still be 10s of thousands left behind on dialysis and I think about that a lot and remember that things can always be worse. I kind of think of it in prison terms: There will always be someone who has been on dialysis 1 day longer than I have and that person has it worse than I do.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">There is good news for today's blog. Mr. Moreno, an older gentlemen who had been treated at my clinic for quite a long time, got his kidney on Wednesday, 11 November. I sincerely hope everything works out for him and that I don't see him return -- at least not as a patient.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">I swear life is not normally this dreary on dialysis. It may not seem that way from reading these posts. It's certainly not the end of the world. And that's kind of the point of this entry I suppose. Dialysis <i>isn't</i> the end of the world at all, it's just a bump along the way. I've never met anyone who has let dialysis define who they are. Those who are able (and they are usually the ones who've been on a good deal of time and have adapted to it) go to work as many hours as they can, coach their kids’ Little League games, and even nurse others. These people are mothers, fathers, uncles, grandmothers, etc. What they are <i>not</i> are dialysis patients, at least not to their families and friends.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: #343434; font-size: small;">Remember, when times are bad and you think you have it worse than someone else, take a look around because chances are someone in your vicinity is going through something just as tough, if not tougher than you are. This is one truth that I have learned on dialysis. I've also learned that I was far too self absorbed to see this truth when I was 25 and started dialysis the first time. With age comes wisdom. As always I wish you, my readers, good health and great love.</span><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-38211929063061480592009-11-12T12:43:00.008-06:002009-11-19T16:20:02.604-06:005 Votes Down<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">While sitting</span><span style="font-size: small;"> in the waiting room yesterday waiting to be called back for my treatment</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">I noticed an older man and his wife</span><span style="font-size: small;">, </span><span style="font-size: small;">waiting. </span><span style="font-size: small;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;">he social worker,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Beth, came out from the back with her clipboard and called them back. That's when I noticed the man's temporary <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hickman_catheter">Hickman catheter</a> in his jugular; this guy was new to dialysis. I overheard him </span><span style="font-size: small;">saying</span><span style="font-size: small;"> as they went back that </span><span style="font-size: small;">whatever caused him to be on dialysis had </span><span style="font-size: small;">come </span><span style="font-size: small;">on suddenly over the weekend</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">T</span><span style="font-size: small;">hen the trio's voices trailed off indistinctly and I was left there to wonder</span><span style="font-size: small;">:</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> "What is taking these people so long to bring me back."</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Witnessing this scene made me think back to my very first day of dialysis, not in a hospital</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> but here in this very clinic. Dialysis in the hospital, to me, was just another room to go to, and another needle; it was just going through the motions of a hospital stay. In an outpatient dialysis clinic, it's a different creature. My first day in the clinic was one of the few times I was actually a little scared</span><span style="font-size: small;"> --</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">at least at first. When you walk in there for the first time</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> you are hit with the sound</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> first. In a hospital, where I </span><span style="font-size: small;">started it</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">my dialysis treatments</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">you </span><span style="font-size: small;">may have </span><span style="font-size: small;">had </span><span style="font-size: small;">one other patient in the room with</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">you</span><span style="font-size: small;"> but </span><span style="font-size: small;">when </span><span style="font-size: small;">you </span><span style="font-size: small;">enter </span><span style="font-size: small;">the outpatient clinic</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> you are bombarded with the noise of 20-30 other people on their treatments. There are people moaning, talking, laughing</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">A</span><span style="font-size: small;">t my clinic</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> you can hear an old woman scream when her needles are put in. Those kinds of sounds gr</span><span style="font-size: small;">ee</span><span style="font-size: small;">ted me my first day as I timidly sat my 120</span><span style="font-size: small;">-</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">pound self in the chair and listened </span><span style="font-size: small;">as </span><span style="font-size: small;">the head nurse </span><span style="font-size: small;">was </span><span style="font-size: small;">talking to me, making sure I was OK. I was not OK. For one thing, I was cold. They keep dialysis clinics ridiculously cold. I assume it's for the machines but man</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> it's uncomfortable. Here's another key difference between the hospital and an outpatient clinic: In a hospital setting, if you are cold they will offer you a blanket, usually a heated blanket. In an outpatient clinic you better bring your own gear or you are out of luck. I was not aware of this </span><span style="font-size: small;">distinction </span><span style="font-size: small;">my first day. It was March and starting to feel very nice outside. South Texas Spring was here and I was in short sleeves and shorts</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> which led me to freeze my ass off for the entir</span><span style="font-size: small;">e</span><span style="font-size: small;">ty of that first treatment.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Back to the sounds of the clinic</span><span style="font-size: small;">:</span><span style="font-size: small;"> phone</span><span style="font-size: small;">s ringing, patients chatting, patients moaning and calling for relief, patients crying or exclaiming with every needle stick. All of these invaded my brain and really made me long to be back in the hospital. Eventually, I was able to shake these sounds with the help of the TV, which back then </span><span style="font-size: small;">provided</span><span style="font-size: small;"> basic cable, and with the help of the terrific staff at </span><span style="font-size: small;">the </span><span style="font-size: small;">facility. Well, before I knew it that first treatment was over and </span><span style="font-size: small;">I </span><span style="font-size: small;">got in my car and drove off</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> not sure if I'd be driving back on Wednesday</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">Of course </span><span style="font-size: small;">I did.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> It took me a week or so to get in</span><span style="font-size: small;">to</span><span style="font-size: small;"> the groove of this new world</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">but</span><span style="font-size: small;"> now it's very much second nature to me.</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">When </span><span style="font-size: small;">I saw that old man in the waiting room</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">I wondered if any of those thoughts were going through his head. Of course, he had a wife who seemed very comforting and supportive. That will go a long way to</span><span style="font-size: small;">ward</span><span style="font-size: small;"> easing his transition into our world. I think, for the most part, the patients who have someone at home do much better in the long run. </span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 6pt;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Enough for now</span><span style="font-size: small;">.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">A</span><span style="font-size: small;">s always, I ask you to remember the 104,900 people on transplant waiting lists. Until next time</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> I wish all my readers good health and great love.</span><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0pt;"><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-31117842766982480042009-11-11T00:06:00.005-06:002009-11-19T16:20:02.606-06:00But for one little girl...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CUo2eVFAUPI/SwXDEC3P5ZI/AAAAAAAAACM/uvVqjOMS4Zg/s1600/summermia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CUo2eVFAUPI/SwXDEC3P5ZI/AAAAAAAAACM/uvVqjOMS4Zg/s320/summermia.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One thing someone with an organ failing them thinks a lot about is what they would/will do once they were healthy. I find myself doing it a lot, especially when I see that little girl in the picture. That's my niece Mia. She's 2 and when I was in the hospital last year and they told me that my transplant was beyond repair and that I would need to go back on dialysis and be re-listed for a transplant I was never more ready to end it all. That sounds horrible to say but after knowing 5 years of health, the only 5 years of real health I'd ever known, I didn't want to go back to what lay ahead. I had seen too much good stuff to go back. Well, obviously I didn't end it, and the first thing I thought of when the shrink asked why I didn't really want to die was that little girl. I want to get a new kidney, and make something of myself that makes that little girl proud of her uncle. So for a lot of those 3 1/2 hours that I'm watching free cable I'm thinking about the future. I try not to think about exactly HOW FAR into the future it may be, but I look to the future for a time when I'm not tied to a machine to keep me from being poisoned by the food I eat, and from drowning in the liquids I drink. Anyway, I thought I'd share that story of a time at the outset of all this when I was not prepared to go on. I'm sure it happens to more than a fair share of those of us in organ failure. Thanks Mia. Your uncle owes you a lot.</span><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2698193938688556726.post-8669359835546875992009-11-09T21:46:00.036-06:002009-11-19T16:20:02.608-06:00Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Monday night, the first treatment of the week. I hope the weekly blood work comes back fine</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> as it thankfully has been</span> <span style="font-size: small;">doing </span><span style="font-size: small;">so far</span><span style="font-size: small;">. My phosphorus has been the only thing showing up a little high from time to time. I am lucky in that I don't have a whole lot of dietary restrictions yet because my blood work is always so good. Unfortunately, I've been through the renal diet in the past and I truly feel for those patients who have to be on it. Diabetics have it</span> <span style="font-size: small;"> twice as bad</span><span style="font-size: small;">. Every time I've been hospitalized and put on the "<a href="http://kidney.niddk.nih.gov/Kudiseases/pubs/eatright/index.htm">renal diet</a>" I've been stuck with baked, skinless chicken and rice almost ever</span><span style="font-size: small;">y</span><span style="font-size: small;"> night</span><span style="font-size: small;">, </span><span style="font-size: small;">and</span><span style="font-size: small;"> a bagel with cream cheese</span><span style="font-size: small;">,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> with 1 scrambled egg substitute every morning. Num Num! I like to eat so, to me, this is the part of dialysis/kidney disease that I find difficult to deal with. Hopefully, I will get a new kidney before the diet</span><span style="font-size: small;">ary</span><span style="font-size: small;"> restrictions </span><span style="font-size: small;">have to be </span><span style="font-size: small;">thrust upon me again. (For a good idea of what the renal diet is, and isn't, click on the link above.)</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Speaking of getting a new kidney, I had a close call last month. As well as being listed with <a href="http://www.unos.org/">UNOS</a>, I am in a program at Methodist Transplant and Specialty Hospital here in San Antonio called the Paired Donor Program. Essentially, here's how it breaks down: 1) I have a friend or family member who wants to donate but can't because of tissue or blood type incompatibilities, in this episode being played by Laura Williamson McCafferty. 2) The hospital matches us with another pair that is in the program </span><span style="font-size: small;">but</span><span style="font-size: small;"> are </span><span style="font-size: small;">incompatible with each other. 3) If all the tests come back </span><span style="font-size: small;">positive,</span><span style="font-size: small;"> Laura gives her kidney to </span><span style="font-size: small;">the other recipient </span><span style="font-size: small;">who needs one and </span><span style="font-size: small;">that person’s </span><span style="font-size: small;">friend/family member gives me the</span><span style="font-size: small;">irs</span><span style="font-size: small;">. A kind of swap meet for kidneys. </span><a href="http://www.texastransplant.org/kidney/kidney_incompatible.html"><span style="font-size: small;">http://www.texastransplant.org/kidney/kidney_incompatible.html</span></a><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; margin: 0pt 0pt 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, I got a call last month saying that a 60 year old couple was an initial match and would I be down if the further testing came out positive. I'm not one to really look a gift horse in the mouth so I said yes, though I did have some reservations about it. Yeah, the nurse said that they were good to go otherwise they wouldn't be in the program, which is true, the program at Methodist has strict parameters and guidelines to ensure the best matches possible. But still, a 60 year old kidney, I would be waiting for it to give out again because it's old. Well, in the end my antibodies went to town on the 60 year old's and the transplant was a no go. I had to wait a weekend to find out and it was pretty tough to find out on Monday that I would have to wait some more. But then I thought about the thousands who were going to dialysis that Monday and were in their fourth or fifth year of going, and I remembered how lucky I am to have never had to have gone that long. Yet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Well that's it for Monday, turns out I won't get my blood results this week due to some malfunction that happened tonight with the machines. Oh well, mine haven't changed that much lately. If any of yall have any questions about the Paired Donor Program or the renal diet feel free to ask. Leave a comment and I'll get back. Until next time I wish you all good health and great love. </span><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Cambria;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12667954118982985724noreply@blogger.com2