WebKittyn Warbles
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Anniversaries - It All Started One Year Ago
One year ago today I made *the* fateful decision that changed my life forever. Happy anniversary. I know people say that all the time about everything from dating to a new pair of shoes but I mean it, it all changed for me a year ago and I couldn't go back even if I wanted to.
I knew it was coming but now that it's here it's like everything is flooding back and the serious reflecting really starts.
One year ago today I finally decided I was sick enough to go to the ER and I made the faux pas of going to Kingston Hospital. They told me I had TB and stuck me in an isolation room and then began a series of treatments for ailments I did not have, ignoring the ailment I did have, medications I didn't need and seventeen days of being told it was all in my head (as they cut into my lung in two places and almost let me kill myself on morphine).
365 days.
Seventy-five days spent in three hospitals
Six surgeries
Three biopsies
Two catheters
One graft
Spinal tap
Nerve block
Six months of dialysis
Endless scans and MRIs
It's a lot to process in one year. I'm in the middle of my fourth month off dialysis and it's been hard. If I had a brain I would have sought some sort of outside assistance but I guess I'm doing alright. I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am broken and this is what I have to deal with.
It's easy to get into the self-pity mode when I'm throwing up for the eighth time in one day and feeling like even getting out of bed is more than I can handle but then I think back to the friends I made at dialysis and how they're still there and I'm not. I've got a lot going on but I beat (for now) end-stage renal disease and that's a rarity.
Were it not for Dr. John A. Horiszny of Northern Dutchess Hospital and Dr. Syed Haqqie of Albany Medical Center I'd be dead because of Kingston Hospital.
I can close my eyes and I'm right back there in the ER. It's 4:30 as I write this, at 4:30 I was sitting on a table in one of the exam rooms getting blood taken and going for other tests. If only I had known then what I know now and had run the hell out the minute they started with the TB stuff. Part of me doesn't get it, these people are DOCTORS. How the hell did they choose to ignore what was right in front of them?
They broke me, permanently.
Monday I'm going over there to meet with the lawyer and get this thing going hardcore. It won't fix what was done unless I go on the black market and buy a kidney and a surgeon but it will go a long way towards the healing. Dead kidneys don't regenerate. I will never have more than 20% kidney function and when I'm old and doddering I'll probably be back on dialysis. Having the knowledge that a private nurse will be provided for in-home treatment makes a difference in the future and having the financial ability to ease the lives of some really good people goes a long way towards healing the soul.
This year has made me strong in a way I never knew possible. I had to be strong, I spent most of my days in the hospital alone due to geography and I woke up alone that first day I came out of the coma. I dealt with dialysis and surgery and things most people never have to deal with and I did it all without the aid of the pills they kept trying to push on me. I made the decision when Dr. George Eisele told me in Albany he believed I'd make it off dialysis that I WAS going to get off no matter what. I fought all the nay-sayers and kind souls who for my 'own good' shot down my hopes because 99% of people don't make it off of dialysis and I really believe it was partially my strong will and want that helped it happen.
This year has shown me what really matters in the world and even though it's a tired cliché, it really can all be gone in a blink. Jett Travolta died of a seizure when he hit his head. I had four seizures the day I knocked on death's door and had my mother not been there it easily could have been me trying to get to a phone to call 911 if I even had that much awareness (I still do not remember anything from March 8th to March 14th).
This year has taught me to ignore the dream-bashers and the ones so deeply stuck in their own unhappiness in life they have no choice but to spread the poison. This year has taught me to celebrate the small victories and discard the physical and emotional clutter. This year has shown me what really matters and what only mattered because I wanted it to matter.
This year has taught me to appreciate and embrace the friends I have and the friends I had that I strayed from. All of the Misfitopia crew were there for me from the start and Deb even called me from Australia to cheer my spirits in the hospital. Dave set up a special forum and Chad kept people up to date. Meathe who was there with chocolate and phone calls and who let me know the server was fine and I didn't have to worry. Darkstar who would drive two hours up and back and play Uno with me in dialysis and sneak up contraband pizza. Nisstyre who kept me in Fritos and blow-pops and late night phone calls when the stir crazy feelings set in. Oaklore and Rhennor who worked their asses off to keep the MuD going while I was unable to even log on. Bug who jumped in and kept KMRL running. Mare who not only helped me with her kindness and support, she also managed to calm my mother on the phone. Cyli and Nicki who were there with calls and written support. All the people who sent cards or gifts or took the time to call.. It made me see with open eyes the beauty of people that exists to counter the ugliness of the majority.
I wouldn't wish the year I had on anyone I know but I'm not entirely sorry for it, I changed more in this year than I have in my entire life and I like what I see and feel. And I'm not going to lie, I like the thought that for all I endured I will get some sort of compensation and I can pay it forward. I need to pay it forward.
A few of the people on Facebook I've recently re-connected with have asked me what happened to me, they don't know about the blog. So I'm going to post two links to my blog, one from a year ago in Kingston Hospital and the long breakdown of what happened with me and my poor shriveled kidneys.
What a year.
One Year Ago
The Long Story
I knew it was coming but now that it's here it's like everything is flooding back and the serious reflecting really starts.
One year ago today I finally decided I was sick enough to go to the ER and I made the faux pas of going to Kingston Hospital. They told me I had TB and stuck me in an isolation room and then began a series of treatments for ailments I did not have, ignoring the ailment I did have, medications I didn't need and seventeen days of being told it was all in my head (as they cut into my lung in two places and almost let me kill myself on morphine).
365 days.
Seventy-five days spent in three hospitals
Six surgeries
Three biopsies
Two catheters
One graft
Spinal tap
Nerve block
Six months of dialysis
Endless scans and MRIs
It's a lot to process in one year. I'm in the middle of my fourth month off dialysis and it's been hard. If I had a brain I would have sought some sort of outside assistance but I guess I'm doing alright. I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am broken and this is what I have to deal with.
It's easy to get into the self-pity mode when I'm throwing up for the eighth time in one day and feeling like even getting out of bed is more than I can handle but then I think back to the friends I made at dialysis and how they're still there and I'm not. I've got a lot going on but I beat (for now) end-stage renal disease and that's a rarity.
Were it not for Dr. John A. Horiszny of Northern Dutchess Hospital and Dr. Syed Haqqie of Albany Medical Center I'd be dead because of Kingston Hospital.
I can close my eyes and I'm right back there in the ER. It's 4:30 as I write this, at 4:30 I was sitting on a table in one of the exam rooms getting blood taken and going for other tests. If only I had known then what I know now and had run the hell out the minute they started with the TB stuff. Part of me doesn't get it, these people are DOCTORS. How the hell did they choose to ignore what was right in front of them?
They broke me, permanently.
Monday I'm going over there to meet with the lawyer and get this thing going hardcore. It won't fix what was done unless I go on the black market and buy a kidney and a surgeon but it will go a long way towards the healing. Dead kidneys don't regenerate. I will never have more than 20% kidney function and when I'm old and doddering I'll probably be back on dialysis. Having the knowledge that a private nurse will be provided for in-home treatment makes a difference in the future and having the financial ability to ease the lives of some really good people goes a long way towards healing the soul.
This year has made me strong in a way I never knew possible. I had to be strong, I spent most of my days in the hospital alone due to geography and I woke up alone that first day I came out of the coma. I dealt with dialysis and surgery and things most people never have to deal with and I did it all without the aid of the pills they kept trying to push on me. I made the decision when Dr. George Eisele told me in Albany he believed I'd make it off dialysis that I WAS going to get off no matter what. I fought all the nay-sayers and kind souls who for my 'own good' shot down my hopes because 99% of people don't make it off of dialysis and I really believe it was partially my strong will and want that helped it happen.
This year has shown me what really matters in the world and even though it's a tired cliché, it really can all be gone in a blink. Jett Travolta died of a seizure when he hit his head. I had four seizures the day I knocked on death's door and had my mother not been there it easily could have been me trying to get to a phone to call 911 if I even had that much awareness (I still do not remember anything from March 8th to March 14th).
This year has taught me to ignore the dream-bashers and the ones so deeply stuck in their own unhappiness in life they have no choice but to spread the poison. This year has taught me to celebrate the small victories and discard the physical and emotional clutter. This year has shown me what really matters and what only mattered because I wanted it to matter.
This year has taught me to appreciate and embrace the friends I have and the friends I had that I strayed from. All of the Misfitopia crew were there for me from the start and Deb even called me from Australia to cheer my spirits in the hospital. Dave set up a special forum and Chad kept people up to date. Meathe who was there with chocolate and phone calls and who let me know the server was fine and I didn't have to worry. Darkstar who would drive two hours up and back and play Uno with me in dialysis and sneak up contraband pizza. Nisstyre who kept me in Fritos and blow-pops and late night phone calls when the stir crazy feelings set in. Oaklore and Rhennor who worked their asses off to keep the MuD going while I was unable to even log on. Bug who jumped in and kept KMRL running. Mare who not only helped me with her kindness and support, she also managed to calm my mother on the phone. Cyli and Nicki who were there with calls and written support. All the people who sent cards or gifts or took the time to call.. It made me see with open eyes the beauty of people that exists to counter the ugliness of the majority.
I wouldn't wish the year I had on anyone I know but I'm not entirely sorry for it, I changed more in this year than I have in my entire life and I like what I see and feel. And I'm not going to lie, I like the thought that for all I endured I will get some sort of compensation and I can pay it forward. I need to pay it forward.
A few of the people on Facebook I've recently re-connected with have asked me what happened to me, they don't know about the blog. So I'm going to post two links to my blog, one from a year ago in Kingston Hospital and the long breakdown of what happened with me and my poor shriveled kidneys.
What a year.
One Year Ago
The Long Story
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