It wasn't good. Driving back from Florida, and basically having to go straight to the emergency room. It wasn't good. Spending more time in the hospital. At this point I chose private rooms, because of the isolation I got at night. One night my sweet isolation was broken by doctors. If you've spent any time in hospitals, its not good when a team of doctors barge in after hours. The question: "Do you know what dialysis is?' "In a few words it does what your kidneys can no longer do on their own." "I'm in total failure?" "10% function." "How long do I have to do this?" "There are cases where patients have returned to full function, but its rare." "But, you will most likely have to look forward to this for the rest of your life." And, they walk out. Leaving me with pamphlets and a movie of what's gonna happen in the morning. Once again, I was alone, afraid, and angry. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night. The next morning I was wheeled down to radiology for catheter "surgery".
The first treatment was scary to say the least. I remember seeing mom's face fighting back tears to point she was turning red, and had to look away. Then she left, as much as I didn't want her to, she left. I cried until my body gave in to the procedure, and all I could was sleep. When it was over, I was in pain down to the bone. I couldn't walk. All I could do is sleep. The next day I had time to register the last 24 hours. All I thought/felt is that I just can't catch a break...If it ain't one thing its another. The rest of my life. Seriously? I really didn't think I had it in me. My time is no longer my own. 3 days a week, 4 hours a treatment, 12 hours a week, 156 days a year, 624 hours a year. So I'm left with 209 days that are all my own. Not counting time to time hospitalizations. I don't get alot of me time. And now that I'm being released, this is what it is.
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