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.