So this is my first blog post. I don't know if I'm going to do it right. My friend Mia says to just tell what I'm going through, what I'm thinking, share my day to day life with everyone. So here goes. I had my 3rd therapy session yesterday. I'm not too sure about my new therapist yet. She seems kinda young and she shares personal likes/dislikes/experiences. I'm not sure how I feel about that. It seems like she's telling me these things to more commiserate with me than to give me examples or show me experiences. We'll have to wait and see for now. One thing we talked about is my very likely limited life span, and how I'm dealing with that. It's really scary to be on dialysis and have your heart flutter (as it always does)...after a heart attack, any odd feeling in your chest and your thoughts automatically go to: Is this it? Is this my last thought? My last moment? Or when I'm sleeping and get woken up by a flutter in my chest...let me tell you, it makes for some very sleepless nights. And I think I've come up with, I'm sad and angry. I'm sad because if I don't get a kidney soon, I will miss out on so much with my daughter. I'm angry because this is just NOT fair. I realize no one ever said life was fair, but at some point, with all I've been through, enough should be enough. And let me tell you, I've been through the ringer.
Dialysis has been going OK. Not great, not horrible. But knowing my 'dry weight' is nearly impossible due to my bariatric surgery and given how much I throw up. So oftentimes I pull off too much or too little fluid. Both make me sick...so that's a fun daily ride.
Home life is ok. My mom does her best to help me by supporting me through everything, but she already has enough on her plate. I feel guilty when I am sick or too tired to make dinner or whatever. I feel like I should be the one still taking care of everyone. It's just who I am. Renee and John help out as much as they can. John has really been taking care of the cleaning, the meal clean up, and all the household stuff my dad used to.
Dad--well, since he wouldn't even consider giving me a kidney--NOT THAT I EXPECTED HIM TO JUST GIVE ME ONE--but I at least expected him to consider it. I'm his daughter. I would give my life for my daughter. But when I asked him about it, he said, "Haven't thought about it."...and that killed me, literally, inside. I was heartbroken. So I told him when our lease is up, I don't want him to move with me. He took that pretty badly and now his schizophrenia has come back. Of course, though, you can't tell him that. And he won't go to the doctor for help as "There's nothing wrong with him." So he's made life difficult...hasn't been doing normal housework, taking care of animals, or all the normal stuff he used to do. I think he's not doing it on purpose to try to show me just how much I need him. But then I catch him walking around mumbling to himself and talking about "assholes stealing from him"...and I know that he's sick. It doesn't change the fact that if he doesn't get help, he's not living with me. I don't have the energy left to take care of someone who won't help themselves when I am this sick.
And I think that's my life for today...I have to get ready to go to the hospital and have a minor surgery on a pseudoaneurysm...when they went in with a camera to look at my heart, they went in through my femoral (in the leg) artery...when they pulled the camera out, the hole didn't close, so my artery has a hole in it...so now today they're going to try to repair that. Hopefully they can do it without cutting me open and having to sew it all up! They're hoping to do it with some type of injection. Let's pray that's the case!
Talk soon!
Joyce
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