Today was my 9th Hemo treatment. Except for one day's bumpy treatment, the overall experience has been positive. In the two & one half weeks I have been on dialysis I have lost 20 pounds and regained my ankles!! Cankles - no more :) And as my prednisone dosage is decreased I am beginning to gain my face back -- you, that thing with cheek bones and one chin (hmm, well I'm afraid I get ahead of my self -- I still have an abundance of chins, but anyhoo....) One thing I will miss about Hemo is the sense of community. For those of you who know me and what a shy, delicate thing I am.... you know it takes me a little while to warm up to a crowd. but Christmas has allowed me to get to know the staff and other dialysis patrons a little better.
So as I was saying I've really only had one treatment that made me question if I was cut out for hemodialysis.
It was a Friday, the weekend was just hours away and I was itching leave my recliner behind and start my weekend early. I followed the routine, when I arrived I paged the nurse and was 'buzzed in', I weighed and found my assigned chair. Let me tell you about this chair, it's big and cushy with a great head pillow and a reclining footrest. Total comfort, right? Well, you decide for your self. When I sauntered up to the chair it was in a yoga position, the down dog I believe, yep, I kid you not.... That should have been my first inkling of foreboding. but no, innocently I helped the chair back into a resting position ( I'm just sure I heard it say 'thank you'). Events proceeded normally enough, standing blood pressure, sitting blood pressure, dressing change and IJ catheter hook up. With the exchange underway and the 31/2 hours slowly ticking down, I put up my feet and prepared to find the answer to that nagging question.... deal or no deal?
All of a sudden a tickle surprised me and I had to cough. The cough subsided and I returned to my mental edification. All of a sudden a whistle blew - awhoooo awhoooo and an alarm sounded beep beep beep beep and along came the reinforcements. Amidst the voices I gathered that my arterial pressure was high and flow was low - apparently neither of which is appreciated by the medical team (and following this exercise it doesn't sit well with me either). Fluids were pushed, lines were crossed and I was reclined further -- so, now I told you about that big cushy head cushion -- for most persons of average height this would have been a head's dream, but for those of us whose feet don't quite reach the floor -- you'll understand when I say the head rest was just that, resting on (and above) my head. Little did I know that this would come in quite handy, nearly life saving.
So back to the events at hand. Pressures got regulated and tensions eased, but the rest of treatment I had to periodically cough to ease the elevated pressures -- imagine a vacuum hose getting sucked against a wall -- you have to wedge the hose away to ease the pressue -- it was similar with my IJ (interjugular) catheter when it suctioned against my chest wall. I settled back into a frozen position, head facing to my left, hands folded in my lap, legs crossed, but a gal can only hold that position for so long when the legs MUST MOVE. So I casually shifted my weight and my world turned upside down. The chair with no warning and no command from me began to tip, tip, tip back. I held on for dear life and rode ' the beast'. Most folks have on chaps and spurs for the kinda ride I took. When the chair came to a quivering standstill I took inventory of my person. feet- check -- hmm I don't recall them over my head... head - check -- well don't that beat all, I can see my reflection in the floor tiles.... And do you know? That big cushly above head cushion kept me from sliding out of the chair!
The above facts are true. Actual events may have been exagerrated for the reader's enjoyment. No chairs were injured during the course of events.
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