Let the "fun" begin!

      

HOME AT LAST!

After 8 weeks of training, we are now home doing our dialysis. Brogan has been a good nurse, but I have been a bad patient.  Actually, the first time we tried it, the machine was not cooperative, and we had a hard time getting treatment underway. The second time we did it, I had MASSIVE cramps..holy smoke!
       Besides filtering out toxins from your blood, the dialysis machine also takes fluid out of your blood.When the excess fluid is gone from the blood, it will also take fluid out your tissues where it can gather, like your ankles, legs, even face.
When you have no more fluid to "give", that is when the cramps can start in, and man, they are painful. I went through a good 10 minutes of pure hell, as Brogan tried to relieve my cramps.

Nurse Brogan holding my "kidney"

        First, she cut back the "goal" which is the amount of fluid you want to lose, based on your daily weight. That didn't help, so then she stopped taking off fluid, and just kept cleaning the blood of toxins, which is accomplished by a mere button push. I was STILL hollering bloody murder, so she finally had to give me saline fluid to replace the fluid I just had taken off with the machine. I hate having to get fluid, when I am trying to LOSE fluid, but it is the only way to relieve the darn cramps. I ended up having 7 pounds of fluid taken off, and then almost another pound put back on via saline fluid. Bummer.

saline aka cramp reliever

       The third time was a total ABORT MISSION. We got all set up and ready to go. The needles went in smoothly and with no pain, (well, not really). Brogan turned on the machine, and my venous line pressure,  which is where the blood goes back into my body after being cleaned, started to go up very high. It is supposed to run around 180-200, and it went up to 300, and then shot up to 500, alarms blaring.
        She hit the MUTE button, and untaped the venous line. As she gingerly tried to reset it, while constantly watching the numbers, it was alarming over and over, and then suddenly, it started to bleed down my arm from around the needle, which needless to say, is not a good sign. The pressure reading was way high, and since I was bleeding, we said (frankly) screw this, we will try it tomorrow.

One down, one to go

        We took out the needles, and I decided not to take my blood thinner, which I think was the cause of the blood leakage. I think my levels are a bit high, a constant issue as anyone on blood thinner will tell you.

Mission accomplished at last!

       So we tried it again last night, and although I still had some cramps, we got a full treatment in, relatively easily for once. I suspect it will get easier as we go, and am looking forward to that!

One more week!

   The last week of home dialysis training is here at last! Brogan and I have been traveling every other day for 8 weeks to learn how to dialysis at home. We are down to our last week of travel, and then we will start doing the treatments at home.
I didn't think we would ever finish, but one week from tomorrow we start doing treatments at home. It will certainly give new meaning to  the term "needle work".

Someone looking a little TOO eager to stick me

   
     We have made great progress in learning all the ins and outs of doing home dialysis, and have had a few laughs doing it. The nurse training us, Cindy, has enjoyed teaching us I think. We have been an "unusual" pair, that is for sure. I do believe she is planning on coming to visit us with a bottle of champagne in hand..and treats for the horses and pot bellied pigs.

Tools of the trade

The correct terminology is BIG HONKING NEEDLE

     We have mastered the machinery, the dialysis machine as well as the water machine, which also will be adorning my living room. The water machine purifies the water, which is mixed with an "acid" and "bicarbonate" which then runs through the artificial kidney, and that mixture is what "cleans" my blood before it is sent back into my veins.

Feeling the fistula to find a "good spot"

     Once I am "cannulated", or in lay mans terms..stuck with two needles, I am then hooked up to the machine. My  treatment takes 4 hours, and then I am done for another day.

To quote my youngest.."BIG OW!"

Note close proximity of boob to lines..Boob is chief antagonist in setting off alarms..If you are doing dialysis, and are a female, be advised to keep boob OFF THE LINES..Alarms WILL SOUND if boob gets caught in tubing.

     

Hooked to machine..let the treatment begin! (It is, indeed the longest 4 hours of my day.)

        Tune in next week for photos from our first home session. I expect dogs and cats, and maybe a pot bellied pig to be in the fray. They can not send home TOO much disinfectant!  See ya in a week!

Days of Dialysis

   Hello Boys and Girls! Welcome to another episode of Days of Dialysis. We are glad you are here...

   Today's word is INFILTRATION. Does anyone know what that means? INFILTRATION occurs when the dialysis needle "infiltrates," or pokes through the fistula, causing much pain and bruising. It is especially annoying when it happens with BOTH needles, at the same time.

   Let's all sing the INFILTRATION song, shall we? Ready boys and girls? To the tune of "Rubber Ducky"....HIT IT!

          Infiltration is the one,
          that makes dialysis not much fun
          infiltration I'm not awfully fond of you....
          poo poopee do

         Double infiltration is the worst,
         when both needles poke through it makes me curse,
         double infiltration I am surely not fond of you..
         poo poopee do

         Bruises and swelling is what you get,
         those darn needles can make a mess,
         that dialysis really did stink today,
         oh yes it did!

         Back to dialysis again tomorrow,
         let's hope it isn't filled with sorrow,
         I plan on drinking no matter what happens there,
         oh yes I do!

          Tune in next week boys and girls, for another fun filled episode of Days of our Dialysis!

The Next Phase: Home Dialysis

   

Well, anyone that knows me knows that I am a stubborn ole gal, and once I make up my mind to do something, I will do it, even if it kills me. This time, it just might. What am I doing that is so reckless and abandon?? And dare I say, dangerous??
Am I hang gliding over the Grand Canyon? Or becoming a "wing walker" in my spare time? Learning how to wrestle alligators in the deep south? Perhaps becoming a traveling rattlesnake kissing pastor of a small southern church? (not likely, just saw that on television lately and it kind of stuck with me..) No, no nothing like that at all.
       What I am doing, is learning to do dialysis at home, accompanied by my trusty (I hope..) side kick, my daughter Brogan. Actually, SHE is learning how to do it, I play games on my computer (when I am not nervously watching to make sure she is paying close attention to the instructor.)
        We have decided to try and learn how to do this at home, as it is a long drive (an hour each way) and with winter coming, I was not looking forward to having to make that trip, snow storm or no snow storm. I will still have to dialysize three times a week, for four hours at a time but will be able to do so in the comfort of my own home.

         I am using the word "comfort" very lightly, as there are still needles involved whether I am at the clinic, or in my living room, which is where we are planning on taking on this endeavor. I WON"T however, have the long tiring drive after I am done with my treatment, and can still keep an "eye" on things here even while I am hooked to the dialysis machine. I am indeed the ultimate multi-tasker. I am sure I can at least fold laundry while I sit there and get my blood filtered. These jobs must be done!

The two large pieces of machinery soon to grace my house

           SO, luckily for me, (I say perhaps very tongue in cheek-ly) I have a daughter that has agreed to go with me and become, dare I put it down in writing....my personal care attendant. I am only 50 for goodness sake!!! I shouldn't need anyone for as much as a hair combing for 20 plus years!! But alas, here we are..learning how to keep me alive, via big ole hunks of machinery, one of which reminds me of scuba tanks. NICE! Nothing says country charm like big equipment in the living room. I am thinking perhaps a doily would help...but I have never found a doily that is large enough. I guess I will have to go with a brightly colored afghan. Sure. That will be inconspicuous. No one will ever know....

           Wednesday of last week was our first day of training, and by the second day, the nurse that is instructing us had Brogan sticking needles into a fake arm, and keeping records already. Monday is our third day, and she has already lined her up to stick me. Yes, you read that right. Third day=stick her mother with large needles.

Photo taken from my helpless position in chair.."You will talk...."

           What did I think about that? A couple song fragments filtered through my mind as the nurse was suggesting that Brogan was indeed ready to attempt the STICK. First...was "Monday, monday..la la la la la la
Can't trust that day..la la la la la la..." followed closely by a U2 song I changed up a bit..."Monday bloody Mondayyyyyyy!!!"
Yes, I am looking forward to this with great apprehension..I mean aggravation! No!! NO! APPRECIATION! Yes that's it!

Nurse Ratchett..I mean Nurse Brogan

Feeling for the vein of the fake arm

           Suddenly, the sun seems brighter..the sky seems bluer..the air is more crisp..clean..or maybe I just feel more ALIVE! Savoring every moment, cause you never know when it will all end!! End?? What??...nooooo, I'm not nervous, I keep telling myself. She has given many shots to the horses, I tell everyone..She is an old pro at needles, and besides..I only saw a little simulated blood running down the dummy arm..I am sure I can live without the pint or so that ran down the arm and onto the floor. Jeez...people have like 8 pints or so right?? I'm sure I don't need every drop!

Keeping track of my vitals

            What I am worried about is the BEEFER, stumbling through the living room, falling over the plastic tubes and yanking needles from my arm, thereby spray painting the living room a nice bright red color..She is a notoriously clumsy cat, and loves to hang around where she finds me. I may have to put the BEEFER in lock down while I am all "DIALYSIS WOMAN"!

I yelled "OUCH!!" when she stuck the needle in 'cause I'm a lot of fun like that...

           I think that is my new name.."DIALYSIS WOMAN". I am a SUPERHERO, able to leap tall...umm..maybe not leap..been quite a while since I have been able to leap over as much as a crack in the floor. Let's see...I am DIALYSIS WOMAN..able to write grammatically incorrect ramblings and have people from all over the world read them, because they aren't particularly busy..at that moment. Yeah, that will work.

I call this her "the fake arm only lost a little blood, but if you don't stop your whining..." look...

          Tune in next week when DIALYSIS WOMAN is attacked by her "personal caregiver daughter" with large painful needles. Will she be able to withstand the charge? Will there be an infiltration??? (infiltration = big ouchy) Will caregiver daughter tell DIALYSIS WOMAN to stop being such a baby and quit complaining??Most likely...TUNE IN!

The story of the sad fistula

           Tomorrow is dialysis day again, and I have to admit I am not looking forward to it. The nurse that was successful for the last two sessions managed to infiltrate it on Tuesday, causing mucho pain and swelling. I at least managed to have the session, but my arm is still sore, making me dread tomorrow.
            The poor nurse that stuck me and went through the side of my vein felt terrible, and kept apologizing for hurting me as she squeezed the heck out of my arm, trying to spread the loose blood around on the inside of my arm. They do that so that I won't have such a large bruise. It hurt like he-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS as she did that, but I told her not to worry about it. I tried to lighten the mood by telling her how the surgeon had told me that the nurses at the clinic would be "lining up" to have the honor of sticking me with the dialysis needles.
She rolled her eyes and told me how it wasn't really the case, and that all the other nurses "avoid me like the plague." I thought they all seemed to avoid making eye contact with me when I walked into the dialysis room. I suppose I shouldn't take it personal....
              The doctor has now ordered an angiogram, which I am having on Friday. They  really want to see what my fistula looks like, whether it is deep, shallow, narrow etc. If it is narrow, apparently they will use a balloon to blow out the narrow area, which will hopefully allow more room for needles. It will also let the nurses know where to find the best  area for sticking me. I hope it works, and is over fast. I need a driver, as they will be making me "loopy" while they do the test. This ought to be good..how much more loopier can I get??
              So, I will write again after I am all angiogramed...No one said this dialysis thing would be simple, and with my luck and history, I am not at all surprised things are not going smoothly. But, I am alive and kicking, and will soon be learning how to do this at home with my soon to be assistant Brogan, my daughter. I figure she has given shots to animals, so she should be able to do some mom poking. She probably relishes the chance! Brogan and I doing dialysis on our own, at home. I see a few blogs there for sure!

Swollen and painful

            
         
        
      

I am one of the lucky ones...

    I was going to take pictures at the Dialysis center, but have thought better of it. I should not take pictures of people that are there with me as it would be an invasion of their privacy. I will tell you about it though, the good, bad and ugly.
    I have been there now three times, the first visit was very successful, and things went according to plan. The second time was not a success at all, and I wasn't even able to have a treatment.
     The nurse that went to put the needles in my arm stuck it in way too deep, and there was no flow coming into the plastic tubing. They tried over and over to move it around to find the fistula vein, and kept asking me if it hurt. I said no, not really once the needle was in, but it did hurt more then usual when they inserted it.
     The nurse that put the needles in went off to work on someone else, and the other nurse that was standing with me kept saying "are you sure it doesn't hurt you?" No, I kept saying, it doesn't hurt. Until it did. Then HOLY HECK! OUCH!
     My arm was killing me all the way up into my shoulder. It was so painful I had tears on my cheeks. The second nurse said she was going to pull it and that it must have "infiltrated" my fistula, meaning that the needle went all the way through, and I was going to bruise.
      She took the needle out and grabbed my arm and started squeezing it, which by the way, didn't make it feel any better. She kept apologizing to me, trying to figure out why it wasn't working. She asked again how long ago I had had the fistula surgery, and did the surgeon ever mention me needing a  second one? I said it was 9 months ago now, and NO he never said I would need a second surgery. He actually said it was such a juicy fistula that they would be "lining up for a chance to stick me" at the center when I went. The nurses just shook their heads like,"sure, sure he did."
       I went home and was told to come back the next day and we would try again. I didn't even know you could do that..skip dialysis. I know they didn't like not being able to do it, but I was so bruised and in such pain they figured that it wouldn't work again that day.

Can you say Black and Blue??

       Needless to say, with my arm looking like this picture, I was not particularly eager to go back the very next day, but to my relief they brought out their top "vein sticker" and she slid the needles in like a champ. The dialysis went through like a charm, and all worked good.
         Tomorrow I go back and we do it again, and so it will be forever...or until either I get a kidney or can dialysize at home, which is a goal of mine. I have to find a couple people willing to partner up with me to do it at home, but at least I can be home. The one hour trip over and back adds to the long day for me, and right now we are in good weather. January might be different for sure.
          In my last blog I said I would take pictures of the center, but like I say, that would be infringing on the other patients privacy. I will tell you one of the questions I was asked was whether or not I suffer from depression. I said no, but then went inside the center. The staff tries very hard to keep up the spirits of the people there, but frankly, it is quite depressing.
          While they were sticking that needle in and fishing around, causing a pretty good amount of pain, I will admit I was thinking I hated this newest issue that I have to deal with in my life. I have had many varied illnesses and have not known "good health" my whole life. I have had many painful operations, bone and joint issues, asthma, allergies, blood clots and chronic kidney disease and all that goes along with that.
          Despite that, I have always been pretty good at "seeing the bright side" and "staying positive" and I think that has helped me carry on as long as I have without starting dialysis. I really had never had a "WHY ME?" moment. Until I sat in that chair and they were fishing around in my arm for that fistula. The WHY ME's kicked in , BIG TIME.
          I pondered that for 24 hours, and when I went back the next day, and sat in the chair, I was not in a "happy spot" in my mind. My humor  did improved  once the needle went in smoothly, and that was when I really looked around, and
 had an epiphany of sorts. It is still a depressing place, but I was no longer sorry for myself. I feel bad for the other people that are there. When my arm is unplugged, I can get out of my chair, under my own power, and walk out the door. I can drive back to my house in my car. I can make supper, and enjoy the sight and smell of spring flowers.
           There are SO many others there that can not do that. A lot of the other people sitting in the room with me are showing the ravages of diabetes, with their missing arms and legs. Several can not get up on their own and walk and must be transferred into a wheelchair for the trip back to the nursing home. A couple go out on stretchers.
            The particular moment it really hit me was when one poor soul, who was hooked to her machine in the room with all of us, had to go the bathroom. While they put up a portable,  privacy curtain around her chair, the smell made it obvious what was going on behind it. They took the curtain down later, and she just had to sit there and look at everyone and know that they know what had just occurred. I felt so bad for her. It was I think THE moment I realized that yes, I am indeed LUCKY. Kidney disease is no fun, and I am not happy about having it, but I am a lot more fortunate then most. I just needed to be reminded of that.
    

Dialysis or Bust...

            

Well, it had to happen sometime, and that day was May 29, 2013. Oddly enough, the reason I went to the hospital was not even related to my kidneys..they just got caught up in the fun. Let me explain...
               I was cooking supper when I suddenly felt a small, quick pain in my left hip. I sat down at the kitchen table to see if that would make it go away, but when I stood up to walk, I was unable to even lift my left leg. I was then overwhelmed by excruciating, paralyzing pain. I couldn't walk as I could not lift my own leg. Cliff tried to pick it up by my pant leg to help me move, but it was so painful I could not stand it.
              Cameron, Liam and Cliff helped me drag myself ever so slowly into the living room, arguing with me to go to the hospital. I didn't want to go, and felt that if I could only get to the couch and lay down, that I would be fine. We made it to the couch, but when I got into a sitting position, I was unable to even lay down. Then I realized I didn't even know if I could get back up. I knew that I needed to go to the hospital and it had to be soon.
             With help from 5 people, I managed to get out onto the porch and sat in the computer chair while I pondered trying to get off the porch into the car. Again, everyone said call an ambulance, but I didn't want to do that. I told Cliffy to get the bucket of the tractor and let me sit on that and be lowered to the ground. With me groaning, crying and screaming, they managed to get me back down on terra firma with the bucket of the Mahindra. I ever so slowly made my way into the car, and with one last lurch, got into the passenger seat.
              It was a slow painful trip to the hospital, with every bounce and bump causing me terrible agony. Once I made it into the hospital, I begged for pain killers from a doctor that was probably as old as my eldest child. Of course, when someone comes in requesting painkillers, the hospital personnel want to make sure you just aren't looking for drugs.
So, off to x-ray I went.
             Once I was back from x-ray, the doctor came in with the startling diagnosis of a badly fractured hip, and said I would need surgery for it at another hospital. They gave me lots of pain medicine at that point, and made arrangements for me to go to another hospital by ambulance.
            The GOOD news was this diagnosis made it possible for me to receive lots of blissful pain relief, and I don't really remember much after that visit to x-ray. The BAD news was...they were wrong. I did NOT have a broken hip, but DID have a pocket of fluid in my hip joint that they aspirated out with a needle the next day.
           The rest of the BAD news...My kidney doctor that was assigned to my case said that it was way past time for dialysis to start, and that she believed that the hip fluid was the result of what they call a "brown tumor", something that can happen in patients with chronic kidney disease, and thyroid disorders, which I also have due to my chronic kidney disease. In short, bad kidneys can lead to bad thyroid, which can lead to bad bones..all of which I have. My kidney doctor also said that it has probably played a part in my badly working knees, thumb joints and ankles.
        A bit of good news...bone can regrow once you get the kidneys working, or if you can't get them working, once you start DIALYSIS. Once I heard that, and once I realized all that horrendous, mind blowing pain could happen again, if I didn't start trying to filter my blood, I knew it was time to stop being stubborn, and start trying to get health-ier.
        My first dialysis treatment was two days after I was admitted into the hospital. I woke up dreading it, not because of the painful needles, but because of the fact that my life is now held hostage by the fact that I have to be hooked up to a machine three times a week for 4 hours at a time, in order to live. No more spontaneous outings, or vacations away. No more having my life be on my terms and doing things by my choice. I now have to schedule everything around my dialysis appointments.

My first visit to the ELECTRIC CHAIR

         Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday I have to report over at my local dialysis center, which is about 45 minutes from my house. I have to be hooked up and sit there for 4 hours while all my blood flows out of my arm through a tube, and filters over and over through an artificial kidney, which removes all the impurities and toxins that my kidneys would ordinarily take out.

Fistula BEFORE dialysis

          I learned all this from the nurse that did my dialysis at the hospital for the last two days of my stay. He filled me in on all the details and answered the questions that I had. As for the actual dialysis..was it fun? No..the needles are big and hurt going in. The actual dialysis itself doesn't hurt at all. You just have to sit still and not move your arm. After seeing the size of the needles, I knew you probably didn't want to have one poke through the vein, which is a big no-no.

Needles in..left side blood going out, rt "clean" blood going in

My new "best friend" - a fake kidney

         I go tomorrow over to the center for my second appointment, and will write a blog and share pictures after that visit.

Me having fun

         I was released from the hospital after a 4 day stay, and was darn glad to be out. My right arm bore the brunt of all my additional lab tests which were many, as they can not do anything at all to my left arm. No lab work, blood pressure readings or iv's. So my poor right arm took all the abuse and is as colorful as my left arm. Almost.

Bruises two days after the last dialysis treatment

         Tune in next time while I show you around the Dialysis Center, my new home away from home!


               

Still amazing ? annoying? amusing? frustrating? the Doctors...

  

Napping with all my pals

Just back from my bi-monthly visit with my Nephrologist, or should I say Dr Doom. I should be thankful in some small way I guess, as last time I saw him, he said "Lets not bother doing any lab work. It will just be terrible and make us feel bad." Oh, and then my favorite line of all.."In ten years, there is a good chance you may not be here, or you will be in bad shape", said in response to me saying I often forget a certain pill. This time, he only said..."well, you are still able to hold your hands out without your fingers closing up, so I guess we keep on going the way we are."
     Ever heard of such a weird thing?  I hadn't myself. Apparently when you have "end stage kidney failure", which I do,  at some point when you hold your arms out and have your fingers in a "patty cake" position, you will be unable to keep your fingers from bending in a "wave" or twitch type thing. It is caused by a build up of toxins in your system that are no longer being filtered out by your kidneys. My fingers, THANK GOD, are still straight as an arrow and show no signs of folding over, waving or even giving him the finger.
      I suppose it isn't his fault because as they say.."don't shoot the messenger." I just hate going in to see him and coming out depressed. My creatnine number is monumentally high, at 8.3. Apparently it is supposed to be less then 1 in a normal adult female. I already know this is not great, since I am far from normal. Also, I am not a first time patient here. I have had ailments all my life. I walk into the lab and blood automatically shoots out of my arm in surrender. It is like on the show "Cheers"...Instead of a bar, I can walk into any hospital and people know my name. "CARM!!!" they yell, as I slide into my booth for check in. If only they would serve me a beer while I sit there...
       So, now my appointments are pretty straight forward. My kidneys suck. The end. WHOA NELLIE!! Not so fast there, Doc! I am fighting dialysis tooth and nail, (well..not much for nails, but I gots teeth.........) Contrary to what you think I probably should be doing, I am still holding out. The doctors in that office (and I have seen them all in the 10 years I have had this disease) have all lost bets on how soon I would be starting THE BIG D. I am not going down without a fight. Once you start dialysis, it is every other day. Forever and ever. Or until you are 'lucky' enough to get a donated kidney. That can be a mighty long wait.
          So I am holding out until the fat lady sings...Which is right now. Ahem...my new anthem...

    Sing to the tune of "Where o where are you tonight?" A la        Hee Haw...

         Ive been to this doctor
          now many times over,
         you'd think he would treat me,
         like one of his kin
       
         He just wants to weigh me,
         and that makes me ugly,
         I told him "take a hike"
         and kicked hard at his shin

         Why o why are you my doc?
          why do I wave my hands in the air?
          I searched the world over
          and thought I'd found a good one
          You make me crazy and
           BLEEP, now I'm  gone!

       ...Until June. Then I'm back. In the meantime, if you see me driving downtown and I wave at you, keep an eye on my fingers. They will be nice and straight. 

        

A long over due update...

A fully healed fistula

   Yes, I am still alive and kicking! I wanted to get an update out on my fistula surgery a long time ago, but time got away from me in a big way. Remind me never to schedule surgery at the beginning of the holiday season again!
    After my brief stint in the hospital for an infection, I came home and rested as much as possible. It was not very hard to do, as I was very weak and anemic from blood loss. I am always anemic due to the kidney disease, but after the surgery, I was even more depleted, and felt terrible. I would huff and puff walking through the house, and doing any kind of house work ( washing dishes, folding clothes etc) made me so exhausted I wanted to collapse.
     Luckily, I have a great regular physician (..was still mad at the nephrology doctors that blew me off in my time of need...), and she ordered a 6 week round of iron infusions and hormone shots to boost me back up to "life like" again. By the third week, I was feeling so much better..whew what a relief.
Bring on the holidays!
      Thanksgiving, Christmas, New years..all done for another year. I am feeling pretty good now, and am very thankful to have had the fistula surgery done and out of the way. I am even more thankful that I still do NOT have to start dialysis, and seem to be hanging in there. My creatnine level is not good, and I can't pretend it is...BUT by the Grace of God, I am doing well enough to not need the every other day dialysis treatments yet. Yay me!
        I am 46 pounds lighter then I was last year at this time, so I think I owe that rude Dr a thank you of sorts. I am not sure what he said about getting serious about losing weight  is what made me start to be more attentive to what I was eating, but perhaps it helped. I do know the surgeon that did my surgery telling me I had to loose 50 pounds to even be able to talk to the transplant team DID have an effect. Nothing like needing a body part to light a fire under your (ample) butt!
I will be having a follow up appointment with the surgeon soon. The same doctor that developed my fistula is the Doctor that will do any transplant on me, so..gotta keep on his good side!
        My fistula is a thing of beauty and kind of fascinating actually. It does not look as gross as I thought it would, and feeling the "thrill" which is the pulse is kind of weird but a good conversation starter.." Hey, wanna see my thrill??" And yes, you can see it pulsing under my skin. THAT my friends is a good strong fistula! I will see if I can get a good video and or picture..Loads of fun! The fistula is the bulgy pulsating lump by the thickest scar..hard to see it move but it does..

         So, that is your latest update. I am alive and well, and hoping for a great year, no dialysis and/or health issues. I will continue to post as things change or even if they stay the same. Happy New Year from Carmen and her Limpy, gimpy kidneys, but wicked strong THRILL!