Potty Breaks are for People with Kidneys

Wow! In the last week, I’ve spent nearly an hour trying to explain the function of kidneys or rather, the lack of kidneys.  It seems to be inconceivable that a person doesn’t have kidneys.  I was scheduled for a test that required drinking copious amounts of water to achieve a full bladder.

Okay, well, I see two problems with this:

1)       I have a strict fluid restriction because I don’t have kidneys, and

2)      I can’t pee, hence the fluid restriction

The first person I tried to explain this to became flustered when I asked for alternate instructions. I explained that I could drink ‘til the cows came home, but the only thing that would accomplish is me swelling up to resemble those cows.   After calling to confer with another professional she instructed me to drink within my fluid restriction and ‘Just do the best you can’ – Why hadn’t I thought of that?  All this time I was thinking my inability to urinate was directly linked to my lack of kidneys  -- when all along I just wasn’t doing my best!

The next person I talked to kept saying, ‘You poor thing’ and marveling that I was ‘Just 30’.  When I finally convinced her of my kidney-less state (no small task I assure you),  she wanted to know ‘what do you do?’  (I’m so glad  God gifted me with quick wit/retorts that often get hung up in Eastern Standard Time, otherwise I’d be apologizing far more frequently for my sarcastic remarks). 

I guess I’m a bit of an enigma, but after talking to so many people who couldn’t fathom what I was trying to tell them I started to doubt it myself.  I had to double check with my dialysis nurse that I had my facts straight – and wouldn’t you know it – this time – I knew what I was talking about J

Today was a rough day at treatment -- Rough is when my blood pressure plummets and my feet end up above my head -- It tends to take the starch out of my sails for the rest of the day.  It was after such an episode today at dialysis that a new patient took the chair beside me -- I could tell she was new because was using an IJ catheter, she looked incredibly nervous & she came without a blanket (no one makes that mistake twice).
A year or two ago I would have been so utterly consumed with myself and my discomfort that I would have likely ignored my new neighbor.  Today I didn't.  It just amazes me the blessings God ahs for me when I take the time to look beyond myself. 
It also reminded me how far God has brought me, helping me through the oh-so-many anxieties and new experiences -- I am in awe of how GREAT God is!

Kidneys Not Included

Every once in a while I have a startlingly clear revelation – For instance – I knew from an early age that gray, really is not my color, farm cats don’t have 9 nine lives and I really should’ve had a V8.  More clarity came in college when I learned that paying money for a haircut is far better than ‘paying’ for the repercussions of a bad self-cut (p.s. – curly hair shrinks when dry).

I stumbled upon my most recent revelation completely by accident (which I suppose is a redundant statement, who purposefully stumbles…).  I was at my hairdresser’s place having my hair cut (lesson learned) – when she started talking about a guy she wanted to introduce me to.  Professionally, she thought he could help me with some insurance issues, personally, she thought a match might be in our future.  I voiced interest in talking with him professionally and was open to other possibilities.  Excitedly she told me how she really was going to ‘talk me up’ to him and proceeded to dial his number – As soon as he answered she introduced me – ‘Hey!  I have a single 30-year old gal here…. *drum roll*  who has a LOT of health problems.’   I don’t see much a future for her in advertising, or me for hearing from him J

What I learned from this experience is that I have had an identity crisis – Dialysis has become such a big part of my life that it became one of my largest self-identifying features.  Even when I’m not in the chair I have the physical reminders with me always.  Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all I think about – often I’m caught totally off guard when someone asks me what’s wrong with my arm.  But honestly, I do struggle with knowing what kind of disclaimer I should come with (Kidneys Not Included?) especially when it comes to meeting new people.

I am so much more than my illness – I’m creative, positive, and playful --- But most of all – I’m a child of the King and the person I am today has been shaped by the joys and struggles He continues to bring me through.  This revelation is a work in progress, but the Lord has truly convicted me of my insecurities and He is gently reminding me that my identity is in Him – and in Him, I am a new creation, chosen, loved and created for a purpose far beyond my insecurities.

 

Top of Form

2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

1 Peter 2:9 ESV

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.

Galatians 2:20 ESV

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

Romans 12:2 ESV 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

John 1:12 ESV 

But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God,
Check out this song by Matthew West -- Hello My Name Is (lyrics by Matthew West)

Attitude Adjustments - Aisle 8

Some days my world is incredibly small – population me.  Yesterday started out as one of those days. Every few weeks the In-Center nursing staff rotate their chair assignments so that they are familiar with all the dialysis patients – Why is this significant?  Well, to some it wouldn’t matter, but it takes time to break in a nurse that has never stuck my fistula – those first few times, in my limited experience – are painful.  I was already uptight after last week’s bleeding episode.  My world shrinks every so much when I place my focus on myself – I become really short-sided. 

Yesterday’s world news reported the use of chemical weapons in the Middle East & a successful lung transplant for a young girl – but the Headlines in my life included – a painful needle stick, followed by a blood pressure that bottomed-out and my site bleeding.  I’m pretty sure you won’t find any of those latter topics on FOX News, but it really consumed my thoughts yesterday morning. 

I left dialysis & stopped at the grocery store – While I was waiting on an order to be filled a lady behind the counter indicated towards my fistula ( I thought this was going to be my opportunity to use one of my new comebacks – ‘ oh, this? Snake bite. Big Snake.’)  But then she asked if she had seen me at dialysis.  She told me her sister was a dialysis patient & that she had seen me when she took her sister.  She began to tell me of her sister – on dialysis now after many years of being diabetic & being a cancer survivor.  Her next comment was, ‘ It takes a lot of faith’. 

Christ is just as sovereign & gracious & in-control on my bad days.  He isn’t surprised or set off-balance when I lose my focus & become short-sided.  And how awesome He is to remind me in such unexpected ways – that woman was God’s reminder of His faithfulness – My world opened up yesterday, when I shifted my focus back to the ONE it deserves to be set upon – I found God’s blessings for me at the meat market!

Will Power & Witty Retorts: Lessons learned While Using My Fistula

Today marks my eleventh week doing Hemo with my fistula.  Eleven weeks isn’t so long – 3 months, but fistula time is actually like dog years – much longer.  100+ hours, but its not like I’m counting J  In that time I’ve had a lot of firsts and learned some surprising lessons.

For instance, today I learned two new things about myself:

1)      I cannot will my blood to clot.

My will-power didn’t work when I wished for the laundry to fold itself & didn’t stand up to the chocolate cake, I’m not sure why I thought I would do any better over my blood flow.

2)      The smell of my own blood makes me queasy.

This lesson followed on the heels of lesson one.  My chair was needed by the next person and so the nurses set me in a chair directly in front of the newest patient. Uncertain whether I was the spectator or the one-woman show – I made every effort to cut the show short – in doing so I created a major production & left a bloody mess in my wake – hence lesson two.  I’m not usually given to squeamishness, but it seems with age comes wuss-dom. 

Eleven weeks has given me time to become more comfortable in my own skin.  In the early days of my fistula I was very insecure about how others would perceive my scars.  A dear friend called me on this fear & challenged me to use my scars to share about God's work in my life.  I'm so blessed to have such honest friends, reminding me of my purpose & God's goodness!  I don't try hiding my scars anymore -- they are all mine, I've earned each one and God has taught me so much in the course of getting them.  I could, however, use some retorts for all the curious comments about -- 'it looks like it hurts' or 'what happened to you' -- I would welcome any suggestions -- my material is getting worn out :) 

Button Holes & Blessings

I’m getting button holes! 

I can only imagine the troubling thoughts my exclamation is causing for anyone reading this - some of you may even be wondering how low my social life has sunk to elicit such enthusiasm over garment slits.

I’m getting button holes – any yes I’m excited – but fear not – my sanity and social life are still intact.

Button holes are a slang term for a fistula site that is always accessed in the same spot. But I’m getting ahead of myself – so for now, just know – button holes are good.

Since my last post life has been eventful – Here’s the condensed version with journaling snippets of most momentous events:

·        March 29^th – First day having my fistula stuck with one 17 gauge needle.                                        My anxiety over this event was actually pretty anti-climactic – I attribute this to three things; my overactive imagination, the nurse’s skill; and God’s grace. It’s a good thing too, because if day one had been anything like day two I may have never gone back! 

·        April 17^th – First day with 2 needles accessing my fistula.                                                                        Actually this was the first day successfully accessing my fistula with the second needle.

·        April 22^nd – Diagnosed with Shingles.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Fortunately I caught it early, so it turned out to be a mild case, but a week later I was back in the doctor’s office with hives caused by a new fabric softener.

·        April 26^th – Fistula Infiltrated.



Bruising 2 wks after infiltration.

Words can’t fully express… OUCH comes to mind– I hope to avoid a repeat performance – Infiltration occurs when the needle responsible for blood return slips out of the arterial portion of the fistula and the blood has nowhere else to go but into the surrounding tissue.  It’s extremely painful and results in a doozy of a bruise.

·        May 6^th – Fistulagram with Angioplasty.

My fistula’s infiltration was a red flag there could be some structural abnormalities with my fistula, so I had a fistulagram done.  They injected my fistula with dye & discovered 3 - 70% blockages.  They ballooned these areas to allow for greater blood flow.

 ·        May 10^th – Phone call from transplant center…

I got butterflies in my stomach when I saw the name on my Caller ID.  My heart was in my throat as I answered.  But instead of ‘the call’, it was the financial coordinator calling to tell me that my new COBRA insurer considered their transplant center out-of-network.  As my heart plummeted to my buns he explained that my current insurance policy would cover little to no part of a transplant.  In a nutshell – No coverage, no kidney.

Another barrier in my quest for a kidney, oh, and did I mention – just a week earlier I and a living donor had been tested for paired donor exchange? 

If you’ve followed my blog, you know this isn’t the first time things haven’t gone as I thought they should – My initial go-to reactions have been panic, tantrums and anger (sometimes all three – I’m a real treat, huh?) – but over the last three years God has used these experiences to mold me and teach me lessons about patience (careful what you ask for), purpose & God’s perfect timing.  So if anything, the last three years has been preparing me for this news.  Instead of reaching for my ‘go-to’ hysterics I felt oddly calm – I’m still working on a solution, but in the meantime I’m choosing to rely on what I believe, or rather in whom I believe – My God wasn’t surprised by this news or any other news that I saw as roadblocks. I believe that Christ has a perfect plan for my life and if a kidney is part of that plan, it will happen at the right time.  So in the meantime I am doing my part to iron out the man-made wrinkles.

·        May 24^th – First day using 15 gauge needles, button holes begin.

Each time I thought of needles this size I envisioned knitting needles – My imagination was far more disturbing than the real thing, thank the Lord!  I’d like to tell you I faced those harpoons with bravery… I would also like a pony…. My help comes from the Lord, but right now my courage is chemically-induced – Lidocaine cream is this girl’s new best friend!

And that brings me back to the present – BUTTON HOLES!  It signifies that my fistula is working well and when the holes are well-established a tract will form, similar to an ear piercing. It makes it easier to access and less painful.  Having button holes also means I can get my IJ catheter out soon – no more IJ means less risk for infection and I can take real showers and go swimming – all the incentives which make a fistula more appealing.

The last few months I’ve had the opportunity to put some of the lessons God has been teaching me into practice. I continue to get new opportunities to trust God & wait for His perfect timing.  In grasping opportunities, I’ve also opened myself up to unimaginable blessings!