Friday, August 26, 2016

Things WILL Get Better ...

My mantra for several years now has been, "Things will get better."  And I'm trying to stay positive and I'm trying to stay upbeat ... but it feels like I'm walking uphill and the incline isn't getting any easier.

I have a thousand little stories ... each one is like another pebble on my head.

Like this one ...

I was walking with the surgical nurse to get the fistula placed in my arm and we had this conversation:

"So, you're getting this procedure done so you can start dialysis?"
"So, once you start, how long will you do dialysis?"
"Um ... ... ... forever?"

Goddamn ... that is the shortest, soul-crushingly depressing conversation I may have ever had.

Or this one ...

We were at a family birthday party last weekend and someone made a comment ... and, I assure you, they meant no harm in it ... but she said, "Good luck next week.  You're going to be just fine.  But honestly, I don't know how you can do it.    I can't imagine myself doing any of that.  I couldn't.  I mean I just couldn't."

I don't have a clue how to respond to that.  Yes ... you would do this.  If someone came to you and said ... you can either die ... or you can start dialysis.  I guarantee you'd be sticking both your arms out asking, "Left or right?"

It's not optimal.  In fact it sucks.  It sucks hard.  But seriously, what are the options?  I waited my whole life to meet someone as special as my fiance ... I can't lose him now.  We haven't had nearly enough time together ... so I just have to adjust.  We have to adjust.

The latest hurdle is the AV fistula.  They made two incisions.  They decided the artery on the left wrist was too small so they stitched that incision shut and cut another one just below my left elbow.  So the fistula is in ... but my arm hurts.  So much worse than I thought it would.  I am exhausted and I hurt so bad.  I want to just sit and cry ... and I have ... but crying doesn't help.

So ... now we wait.  In two weeks, they'll take out the stitches and I'll start exercising the arm to strengthen the new fistula.  About four weeks after that, if it's strong enough, I'll start dialysis.

Someday this blog will be happy again.  Someday it will be funny again.  I keep saying things will get better ... and they will.  Pinky swear ...

Running on, running on empty
Running on, running blind
Running on, running into the sun
But I'm running behind

Jackson Browne - Running on Empty

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