Six and a half months ago I was drowning under the end stage kidney disease.  Postponing the fistula surgery because I was fearful of the vein modification  process, and wary of what dialysis would do to my head, an IV drug user in recovery. 

So I put it off for months.  Got sicker and sicker until I was waking up each morning vomiting up amd empty stomach unail mid afternoon, weighed down by edema in my entire body, surviving on nutrition shakes and protein powder.

It got so bad my doctor finally told me that if I did not begin dialysis I would be too I’ll to receive a kidney transplant, even if one came available for me.

So I went to the hospital and they placed a catheter in my artery in my neck with an in tube that is color-coded blue, and an out tube color-coded red.  I was dialized through that port for about 6 weeks while I underwent the vein-elevation surgery to raise the fistula that had been created months prior to the surface of my arm.

The fistula, by the way, is ugly.  I have two surgical scars one 10 inches long front my armpit to my elbow.  The other scar cone off at a 90 degree angle on the inside of my elbow.  The scars I can live with, even with pride.  The fistula is hard for me to look at, hard to accept. 

Once I started dialysis they removed 30 pounds of water weight.  One fifth of my total body weight.  My appetite improved immensely and my energy level improved.   The strain on my body image improved as my face and body returned to a shape that I recognized. 

I am writing all of this as a build up to Janice.  But now it has taken too many words, and Janice deserves my best words.

She will have to wait until another day.


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