Another dialysis-induced infection~~

Looks like I probably have peritonitis (again). The last two nights, my "initial drain" was red and cloudy. Red isn't that hard to take. It just means that I did something that put too much strain on the "PD" catheter, and it started bleeding. However, with no kidneys, I would not want to cause too much bleeding, because if I get too anemic, I'll have to get Epogen injections, probably twice a week or so. And that's no fun! Cloudy, on the other hand, means that I probably have peritonitis (again). Oh, I've only had it four times in two and a half years. When does it all end, or does it ever end??!!! Why can't I be absolutely fed up with this nonsense???
The timing couldn't have been worse, either. I'm flying to Cleveland for the holidays...leaving this Thursday. I REALLY didn't need to get peritonitis this soon before leaving for my Christmas vacation, and I REALLY REALLY REALLY don't need this peritonitis to ruin my Christmas!!!!!!!!!! Bad enough that the two times I wound up in the hospital with this illness, were on Valentine's Day and Mother's Day (both in 2008). Those were hard enough. If I have to spend Christmas in the hospital, that's it...I will absolutely feel like quitting all dialysis treatments of any kind!!!!
The first time I had peritonitis, in the summer of 2007, it was mild, as it is now (so far). I gave myself antibiotics for two weeks, it cleared up, I was fine. In 2008, I almost died twice. The first of those two times, I was severely dehydrated too, complete with dizzy spells and passing out, which was why Dad had to carry me to his car, and I had to be in a wheelchair when we waited in the Emergency Room. The second time, in May of 2008, I was in so much pain that I was reduced to crawling. I was home, so Mom called 9-1-1, and two paramedics came and had to scrape me off the floor as though I was a damn fried egg. This time, I hardly have any symptoms, other than a little cramping. Today, I started with the antibiotic thing, so hopefully we're catching it soon enough this time that I will be spared of another hospital stay, because that is what would ruin my Christmas!!
I have had enough dialysis-related infections already. And the time I was on hemodialysis was no exception. No peritonitis...but plenty of systemic infections, which are infections that are detected in a person's blood. One of those infections that I remember well was in the summer of 2008...Every time I went for hemo. treatment, during treatment, I got terrible chills, and almost unbearable muscle aches, including bad headaches. Some time after being disconnected, the symptoms cleared up. That's how we knew it was from the hemo. catheter. In January of this year, I had a graft put in my right arm. The dialysis nurse promised me I'd have a lower chance of getting infections. A month later, the graft got infected and had to be taken out.
I've had too many infections already...I'm fed up!!! I've had it!!! How much clearer can I possibly be??? I am sick and tired of being sick and tired!!!
Excuse me. This is my blog. I will sneak in here and vent when I feel like I have to, so thanks for hearing me out.
Happy Holidays!!!!
xoxo

A bit of transplant info~~

It's been a busy few weeks here.
Although, with only two weeks before Christmas, and I still haven't started writing out greeting cards, I really should get to that...
But, I also want to give you a little bit of education, on Living vs. Cadaver kidneys...stressing how much more beneficial it would be for me to have a living, rather than cadaver, donor. And, I want to give you a little insight as to what the first two months or so, following my transplant, will be like...so you know.
Living donor kidneys have a greater chance of working immediately, following the transplant, and also a greater chance of staying working longer, than cadaver donor kidneys. Plus, a living donor kidney has probably been out of its original owner for less time than the average cadaver kidney.
Now then...the first two months or so, after transplant. For me, that means, a lot of doctor's appointments, which will be important for me to keep. Literally, my life will depend on keeping every appointment, and following doctor's orders. I'll have many anti-rejection meds to take, daily, and every certain number of hours apart like clockwork...no exceptions. In those first critical weeks, I'll have to rest much. I won't be able to drive, nor will I be able to lift anything over 5 lbs. And, I may have restrictions as far as whether I can walk up and down stairs right away. Oh, yes, and also, no going grocery shopping or being ANYWHERE where there are crowds, because as my immune system is compromised, I'll be very susceptible to even the slightest little cold, and if I'm not careful, that could kill the new kidney, and I'd end up back on f***ing dialysis again. So...no crowds, especially in the beginning. I'll be very fragile those first two months...I'll have stitches. They STITCH the new kidney in place...they don't weld it in and secure it with nuts and bolts, like a damn car. And it'll be up to me to rest plenty and not push myself too hard, so that it can all heal up properly. Will I be able to keep up my share of the housework?? NO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thanks for reading on. I hope I've given you at least a little bit of useful information...food for thought.
Later, tweethearts!!!
xoxo

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!!

Just wanted to take a minute, and a break from my new story here, to wish you a very, very, very Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!
Tomorrow is the Dick Biondi Toy Drive, on WLS-FM (and on the Internet at said radio channel).
Two years ago, I made a small but significant donation. Dick thanked me for that, which was wise on his part, because I didn't have to do that. I was out of work (for the umpteenth time in a four-year time span), had no income (my Social Security Disability benefits didn't start until after I moved to Cleveland), and had just had a major surgery (the nephrectomy, for which my co-pay was $1,000!!) So, to say thank you to me for whatever the donation was that I made, was a good thing. Dick and I were therefore appreciative of each other that year.
Last year, I donated $350...and just reminded myself of that a week or so ago when I decided to get my 5th/3rd checkbook updated, balanced, and detailed. I wrote, and relived, the transactions of the past year, which were many...because when I was in Cleveland, I was lonely, and bored as hell...which caused me to go through a six-month spending spree, including the $350 donation to the Toy Drive. While that was a much larger donation than I had made the year before, Dick never said thank you for that one.
So, this year, I am going to skip the donation. With all due respect to UCAN, and to Dick, I don't need to make a donation and have it get overlooked as though it hadn't happened. I have the records to prove that it did happen.
There was one more thing that I have not forgotten about, nor will I ever probably. Two years ago, during the Toy Drive, someone brought Dick some bottles of specially-marked Steak Sauce, like the one pictured here. Two years ago, Dick promised he'd save me a bottle. I told him I was going to be moving to Cleveland shortly after New Year's...and I did so. But, he never let me visit even then. Even when I was only 350 miles or so away. Not only that, but I never received said bottle in the mail either. So, after two years, I have never actually seen this special collectible bottle that was promised to me. That's not very nice at all, y'know?
Looking at this, I am guessing that someone, particularly another Biondi fan, may be offended by hearing my version of what transpired over the last two Toy Drives. I don't care. This is my blog. I'll offend anyone that I want to on my blog. If I leave a comment on a public discussion forum, then I'll be more tactful...but not on my blog. If I refrained from offending anyone on my own blog, I might as well not write in the first place.
Anyway...feel free to give the Toy Drive a listen tomorrow...and, if you can and want to, go ahead and donate. Dick might even give you an on-air thank you. Me?? I'm saving up for my next car...besides, I already donate to PAWS of Coronado, the Humane Society of the United States, the ASPCA, and even the PKD Foundation. UCAN can do without me this year....since they got $350 from me last Toy Drive, and no one gave a rat's a$$.
Have a lovely weekend!!!!
(poofski)

The first five years

Forgive my lack of memory, but I really don't remember that much about my pre-Kindergarten years.
Thanks to the memories my mom has shared with me over the years, and what little that I can remember, I can probably give you a little background on those five years.
At first, we lived in a two-bedroom, first-floor apartment in Warrensville Heights, Ohio, a southeast suburb of Cleveland.
One thing that I know was true back then, just as it was all my life, was that Mom, Dad, and I got less-appealing presents at Christmas, because Dad is Jewish (which makes me half-Jewish), whereas my aunt and her husband and daughter got the most appealing gifts, as they were Catholic. This was the extent of any mention of religion in my family, or at least in our household, until I was in high school.
While at the apartment, things changed much. Construction on what is now either I-271 or I-480 (no, I'm not sure which...sorry) went underway not too far from where we lived, and when we went on our walks through the neighborhood, I used to tell my mom, "Go see trucks." I am not sure why, but I loved watching the trucks. I must have had tomboy tendencies, although I was clearly a girl...except that my hair was slow to grow out, so was always short and scarce. My first haircut was probably not until after I turned 3.
By early 1973, the neighborhood started changing. The apartments were partially broken in to more than once. Not completely broken in to, and not entered...just the bottom locks were undone, and the doors left ajar, but the security chains were left intact. Because of the changes that were undoubtedly taking place, many families left the area, and we were no exception.
Shortly after my 3rd birthday, we moved to a 2-bedroom bungalow house in South Euclid. My parents still live there, and I have also, on and off in my adult years.
After the move, I wanted to "see Old Numbers House." I guess the numbers on both places got my attention, because the apartment then became "Old Numbers House," and the house was, I think, "New Numbers House."
One thing about me back then: I was a smart cookie. I started reading store signs backwards even...which is something I can, and still, do frequently. I could read and write, period, before I started kindergarten...not everyone can say that.
In South Euclid, I had three or four playmates, all of whom lived on our block, and all of whom were already in elementary school, as at 3 and 4 years old, I was the youngest. We were pretty darn close in those days, and remained close until shortly after I started first grade. I guess, when the going really gets tough, you find out who your real friends are...and they weren't really friends when the going got tough for me. But, I'll get more in to that in a future post.
I have a vague memory of one of our first winters at the house. I think I was 4 1/2, but I may have only been 3 1/2. Whichever...it was clearly snowing, much. And Mom wanted me to play in the front yard by myself for a little while. After all, I was supposed to be a big girl now. No sooner did she go back in the house, than I started crying, as though I thought someone was going to come and kill me or something. I don't remember how we resolved that little problem. So, I didn't like to be alone without Mom. But other than that, I was just as sweet and normal as could be.
By the time I started kindergarten, I was just a sweet little angel...with sometimes a silly sense of humor. But, I was...just a sweet little angel. Not all that talkative, but not painfully shy either. The painful shyness--my protective shell--was to come shortly thereafter, and has not left me completely.

By the way~~~~

By the way...
I have gone on to write, in general.
Initially, my blog here was supposed to be to kind of let someone know exactly how hard it has been waiting, and waiting, and waiting...for a kidney transplant. I kind of hoped that somehow, word would get out that I was getting tired of waiting, and maybe someone would come forward and try to at least...get tested to possibly be my donor...or at the VERY least, be approved to be someone else's donor so I can get moved up on the waiting list???
Or, if not that, at least do a little networking for me please...tell everyone you know, as am I, etc...to get the word out.
After almost a year of writing, almost nothing has happened.
I cherish, with all my heart, every comment that I have received, and I thank you much. Alas, even comments have been few and far between.
So I moved on from that topic, and shared some, about my cats...cars...moving across the country (again)...And whatever else.
I am considering getting into sharing some about where I've been, what I've gone through...because my life has been essentially boring-as-hell, but with a few really exciting moments. (I said, EXCITING...I didn't say, necessarily, exciting in a good way!!! But to know what I mean, you would have to know my story...which you will, if only you'll stick with me here.)
I may not be the best writer out there, but...if I quit, no one will know I ever was doing anything and everything to reach out and be as real and as tangible as possible so that maybe someone would want to help me network.
Like my first transplant doctor told me...my job...is to tell everyone I know to tell everyone they know, etc., etc., etc. And if someone along the way wants to be my advocate, and help with my networking, please, be my guest!
Maybe, if we all network, maybe word will get out to one of those living-donor chains that I have read about. I know they're out there...but I have had no luck at all in connecting with one.
Let me wish anyone who comes along here, this week:
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
With love and best wishes for a lovely holiday...
~~The San Diego Turkey. ;-)

Stwange Coincidence

Life takes amazing twists and turns sometimes.
Personally, for me, two traumatic experiences in my life, both of which are unforgettable, both involved a Jerry.
Now...what were the odds...
One, yes, was my Jerry...my darling cat. The other...well, it would take a ton of encouragement for me to come out with it and reveal who the other Jerry was/is. No, I would never give out his last name...I'd just tell what happened.
Gotta run for now. I'm not feeling well at all here.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
(Poofenpfeffer)

Almost two years since the big surgery~~

Yup...it's now been two years, minus nine days, since I had that big nephrectomy.
That's two years minus seven days more than I thought I'd live with no kidneys.
I thought I was supposed to have gotten a transplant by now...then again, maybe somebody knows that I'm a lost cause.
I've come close to dying more than once since then...and I wonder why I didn't let myself go the rest of the way (toward dying, that is). Maybe, because, someone wants me here...but, who, and why??????
When you need a machine every night to keep you alive and relatively healthy, you start questioning...excuse me for going through that, and thank you for understanding.
Ta-ta now!
I'd hate to say the wrong thing on my own blog, so I'll shuffle on outta here before I stick my hoof in my mouth.
(poofenpfeffah)