Here I am again. I found my first blog last night and I though maybe I should blog a bit more than I actually do, so here goes -Here it is, 2012 and I'm still on dialysis, and have been for more than 4 years. Last year, I switched from going to dialysis during the day to Satellite Dialysis' Nocternal Program. I get there about 8:30pm and am on by 9:00pm. I am there for eight hours while the machine does all the work and I get to sleep. I'm done about 5:00am. I usually go home and get a few hours more sleep, then I have the rest of the day, the evening and all the next day to do what I want. I never thought I'd like eight hours on the infernal machine, but it really fits my needs! And, nocternal dialysis is much slower and easier on the heart. It certainly is NOT as bad as it sounds. My life is pretty much normal. A friend of mine asked me how I stay so positive with the health problems I have. It's easy. I tried it the negative way and I really DID NOT like the way I was. I was surly, mean and yes, snotty. People tried to be nice and kind, however, I had a chip on my shoulder and a glare in my eyes that frightened most people away. That was Mean Mary Jane. While I was at an appointment with my Neprologist ad Kaiser my doctor and I finished our visit and then he got serious. He said, "Mary you have GOT to change your ways. You can't treat people the way you do. They simply don't have to put up with it. We want the Old Mary Jane back." Needless to say, I was mortified and very angry at the man who had carried me through so much. I remember walking out to my car and thinking, " He can't treat me that way!" When I got to my car, I was in tears, because I realized that Dr. Muldowney was right. I had to make changes. So I did. I commited murder. I killed Mean Mary Jane and started to create a new, better one. I remember waking up a day or so later. It is my usual habit to pray morning and night. As my grandmother Zora Gray said, "Prayer is the lock at night and the key to morning." She was a very wise soul. In my prayer, I told my Father in Heaven that I was determined to be happy. I said that even if I have to paste a smile on my face, I was going to be happy. I have had too many years of waking up with a lead balloon in my chest, and that I wanted it gone. I was going to be happy even if I had to fake it every day for a year. I didn't have to wait that long; I felt better immediately. No lead balloon, no feelings of hoplessness or fear. I became a new Mary Jane. I have to add here that I was on prednisone (steroid) for 30 years, and was able to wean my self off of it. Prednisone is a horrible, but necessary evil, that alters moods and causes extreme weight gains. I don't know what is worse - prednisone or being on dialysis long term. I know that I want to be able to go places and do things, and I seriously had to consider the consequences of taking it again. My attitude changed around the time that I stopped taking it. I dread going on it again, but I know the warning signs and I just have to fight it hard this time. So, back to why I am so positive. I'm positive because I can see what being snotty can do to those I love, and I don't want to ever want to do that again to anyone. That's #1. #2 I've seen what being a diabetic and on dialysis can do, and I don't want the same to happen to me. Every time I go to dialysis I'm reminded when I see lost limbs, eyes, and other awful maladies. I dialyzed near a man whose name was Walter. He was grumpy and had a tendency to embarrass the techs who work so hard for us. He had multiple problems - one leg gone at mid-calf and the other one just below the knee. He also had one eye missing. He had scabs all over his arms. and he smelled awful. The sad part about this was that Walter did these awful things to himself by not taking the medicine prescribed. He had just given up on himself. When I was dialyzing during the day, he had a chair near me. I decided to to a little test. I walked by him one morning and said, "Hey Walter. Hows it going?" He looked at me kind of surprised and said that he was good. I did it the next day and the next day after that. He was actually nice to me. I had a hard time with any sort of conversation with him because it felt like I had to drag words out of him. I made more progress than most people. When I transferred to the nocternal program, I figured I'd probably lose contact with Walter. He ended up transferring to the night dialysis a few weeks later. Once again, I would say hello to him, but couldn't really coax much out of him. I would keep up on his progress through my nurse, Maria. She would update me on his progress - or lack of. One morning I was asleep at dialysis when I heard a loud "Hey!" It was Walter. He had wheeled himself to where I was (by the back door, so I'm assuming he was waiting for his ride). Again, the conversation was limited. I sensed that he was a very lonely man and the attention I gave him was about all he got. Sad. I saw him off and on after that. I hadn't seen Walter for a few weeks so I asked nurse Maria about him. She said that she was sorry and that Walter had passed away. I felt bad for him. He had basically committed a very slow suicide. Such a waste.
That's all for now. Catch you later... MJ
