Friday, April 08, 2005

Another day, another crisis ...

My father in law appears to no longer be in imminent danger of dying, but he is very weak, and often confused. He's not eating, and it's very difficult to get him to drink anything. I'm still spending each day with my mother-in-law, at his bedside, trying to keep him hydrated, and get some nourishment into him. I don't know what tomorrow will bring for him ... but I want to try to be there as much as I can and help see him through it.

Yesterday, I kept an appointment with a specialist that was set up for me by my primary care doctor. It looks as if I may be about to set foot on yet a new adventure ... or perhaps I should say: misadventure.

Apparently, a mass of over 6 cm was found during an ultrasound I was given last week. It's not what they were looking for ... and it's taken me by surprise. They were actually looking for a renal blockage of some sort ... but ... let me backtrack a bit ...

In the fall of 2003, I went to see my first doctor in about 16 years. Well, that's not entirely true, since I *did* see one doctor during that time, but you get the idea. I'm not comfortable in the doctor/patient venue ... in fact, I'm fairly certain that you could call what I go through when I have to see a doctor a "panic disorder." I don't "hate doctors," as my PCP believes (and freely tells everyone he sends me to) ... I just completely tweak out when I have to deal with them for myself.

At any rate, after suffering with a sinus infection since Jan. of 2000 and a bladder infection since June 2003, I gave in and made an appointment to see a local doctor in October of 2003. I really did think that I would be able to march into there, get some antibiotics for my problems, and vanish - as I'd always done before. Well, God had other plans.

The nurse checked my weight (embarrassingly plump at the time) and my blood pressure - and stopped. She asked if my blood pressure was always high, and I told her that it was only high when I had to see doctors. She informed me that it was 240 over something ridiculous, and that she would give me a few minutes calm down, and then come back in and take it again.

Well, having a background in nursing didn't help me much then - since I realized quite clearly just how high that was. The anxiety of the moment drove it even higher, and by the time she returned, it was 280 over something crazy.

Well, that didn't leave a lot of room for discussing my poor painful bladder infection at my first meeting with the doctor - who ended up becoming my primary care physician. This fellow wanted me to go straight to the hospital. I dug my heels in. We finally compromised: he would give me something for my infections and an HTN medication, which I would take that day. I would return to his office the next day and have my blood pressure checked again, and would agree to do so as long as it took to get it down to a safe level.

He scared me badly enough that I did return the next day, as promised. I think it was when he said "Look, you can walk out of here if you want, and I can't stop you, but I won't be responsible if you drop dead when you do."

The blood pressure was still high - very high - and that time he convinced me to go to the hospital. Snared. Once they've got you ...

I was in the hospital for nearly a week as they tried to get my blood pressure down to something viable. That was when I met my nephrologist, and was told that I had chronic kidney failure on top of the severe hypertension.

Life since then has been a three ring circus - with me as the buffoon. Over the last year and a half, I've had 3 ureteral stents, major surgery at the Lahey Clinic in MA to take care of a renal blockage, an endometrial ablation, and any number of ct scans, ultrasounds, and misc lab work. I had to learn to give myself injections. I've also had 4 (maybe 5, now) little TIA's, where I lost my vision and was afraid to end up losing quite a bit more than that. If I were to toss in the extra little stuff - the pernio, the neuroma ... etc ... it would round out the full picture quite well.

I feel as if I'm precariously balanced at the edge of a precipice ... and my feet are going numb. My PCP actually told me, while discussing the only TIA I actually told him about: "You know, a large one of those (veins, arteries in my brain) lets go and you'll be gone before you hit the floor." Yah Doc, thankee. Good to know.

Anyway, after my surgery at the Lahey Clinic last September, my kidney function seemed to improve quite a bit, and my nephrologist stopped mentioning kidney donors and waiting lists. I'm still in kidney failure, but my numbers have improved. My BP is mostly controlled. Also, some very severe bleeding was taken care of at the end of September by a local gyn, and I was just starting to see some daylight. My hematologist at Lahey had actually told me that my numbers were better than his!

And now ... this. A "something" has appeared uninvited in my gutt ... something of over 6 cm. It apparently grew there since September. I can just picture the little bugger now ... just waiting for the last stitch to go in before hollering to his buddies: "Ok! Let's GO! We've got a lot of work to do!" And work they did! More than 6 cm in 6 months!

Well, next week I go see my hematologist, and the week after I have another ultrasound to try to peg down that new little bugger. Guess I'll know more after that.

And now ... need to start my day, and get out to see my father-in-law.

Laters ...

Monday, April 04, 2005

Lost One of my Daddies ...

The Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, died yesterday at 2:37 eastern time. At the time, I was at my father-in-law's bedside, and I had to hold my feelings in. By the time I got home, I was emotionally drained

I still can't believe he's gone. Nearly half of my life - he's been the Holy Father. In last decade, I've grown to love him in such a personal way, and really feel as if I know him. I'm going to mourn him for a very long time.

Pop seems to be rallying a bit, and I'm afraid that he will begin to sink again without warning. It hurts so much to see him like that. He's always been so sweet and funny - tough - dependable. My ally ... sometimes my only ally. I would trade places with him, if I could.

Tomorrow, I will go to the hospital to do my "standing order" lab work, and then head back out to the rehab to be with Pop. I don't want Althea to be there by herself. She looks so tired.

I will fill out some of the details of my life when I'm not so emotionally exhausted and distraught.

Good night, blog-land.

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Losing Two Daddies - again

Never in my life did I think I would resort to blogs. I have a very public web site, and I even have a journal online - however, that journal is for the "public" ... it's streamed and edited and carefully planned out. It tells about where I've been and what I'm doing - but nothing much about who I am, and how I'm feeling.

I guess - the "who I am, and how I'm feeling" ... well, even my family isn't much tuned into that. One of my sons is very astute, and often listens to his mom rant and rave ... I consider him my best friend, at moment. But, I know that he needs to get out of my house, and start a life of his own - pronto. When he leaves, I will be alone. No, I'm not a widow, and I don't live alone. You can live with a hundred people, and still be very alone.

There is no one for me to "turn to" with the things that are heavy on my heart, although, I certainly do have any number of casual friends who would be willing to "listen" to me. I also have a few close friends who would probably be willing to "listen" to me. I'm just very seriously not drawn to "speaking" to anyone ... I honestly can NOT imagine myself doing that.

And so ... this anonymous blog ... this place to pour my heart into ... where no one knows me, and no one will be able to judge me.

And now - today's big burden, and the reason for the name of my blog ...

Eighteen years ago, my dear, beloved Dad died suddenly after suffering a massive stroke. He died a week after my dear friend's father died, and two weeks before another dear father figure was taken away from us, and imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit ... (and yes, I know he didn't commit it, since I was there.) I have never gotten over the loss of my father. I'm sure there will be more on that later ... but that's all I have the time for today concerning that particular part of my life.

Last night, I spent the night on the sofa - with the television on Fox News all night long. I've spent every free moment I've had for the last week or more with my father in law, who was put on hospice the night before last. He's not expected to live more than a day. He's been my Daddy since I lost my own Daddy 18 years ago ... my Daddy and my ally. I can't let go ... I just can't see him leaving us. I'm not ready to lose him. And neither am I ready for what I'm watching on Fox ... as I write, the Holy Father is also expected to live less than a day. I'm surrounded by death, and it seems as if my last two "Daddies" are in a race to leave me alone. The Holy Papa will leave a huge spiritual and temporal void in my life, and my dear Father in Law will leave a immense empty in everything I am.

No more Daddies after this coming loss ... they'll be all gone.

Moofles