It Works

Friday morning. 9:35 to be exact. I’m waiting to speak with the doctors regarding my biopsy results. Nervous? nah. If the results are at least neutral, I will be happy. Bad news, that’s another story.

Waiting in the waiting room is similar to watching grass grow. Grass that hasn’t had rain in a long time. It could take hours. Especially if they are running behind. Today, the room is filled, which means they are behind. I observe the patients and families waiting. Some read, some talk, while the younger ones text on their cell and then there are the ones who pretend to sleep, but you know they really aren’t. They are just trying to shut out the world and be alone for a few precious minutes. And then there is me, and my nice, big, laptop to keep me occupied.

Sitting a few seats away to my left is a Polynesian gentleman that has had a grueling time since his transplant last June. He is back in sweats, with a matching beanie pulled over his head. He is a tall, gentle giant well over 6 ft, but the way he is hunched over in his chair, I doubt he feels half his size. His sweet pea sized mother, sits by his side quietly reading. In front of me, a  Pilipino family of 3 are talking and texting… A grandmother and her teenage grandkids who act as her translator.  Things seem to be going well for them. And then there  is a Hispanic family. These people really stick together and come in full force. The patient who comes with the cousin, grandparent, grandkids, spouse…there is about 7 of them. They take up a whole section of the waiting room.  The adults just sit there, while the kids are coloring on the floor or running around in a two foot radius of the adults. It’s almost like there is an invisible electric fence keeping them in the perimeter. Do not cross.

……My name is called. I love Julie the nurse. She’s about my age and way cool. She does the usual temp, blood pressure and weigh in and sends me to my room. I get all kinds of friendly heads poking in to say hi.

Doc walks in. The results.  INCONCLUSIVE. Really? Doc Steiner explains to me that a very good pathologist studied my kidney samples and nothing showed up to explain the current situation. It may be too early in the stages to find anything, meaning nothing has developed enough for the humans to interpret. (Duh, coulda told you that…in fact, I thought I brought it up pre-biopsy.) Okay, so the good news is there are no signs of rejection. Yay! Therefore, everyone has done what they could they’re just going to let it go for now.

In fact, being the star prisoners, ‘B’idney and I am doing so well, that we get the A-OK to return back to my regular Nephrologists in Orange County for the next 3 months. They will keep a close eye on my progress, which I know will be ok. If my symptoms get worse, they’re going to bring me in for another biopsy… Or so they think, ha! I would like my ‘B’idney to continue looking like a kidney, and not holey swiss cheese, thank you very much.

P.s.- Brian my donor suggested maybe I need to give ‘B’idney a shot of Mountain Dew, since that’s what he pickled his kidneys with before and they seemed to love it. I’m surprised ‘B’idney isn’t glowing fluorescent green. :)

LOVE him

Today is Valentine’s Day. So I wanted to dedicate this post to my Paul (aka ‘Bub’). Honey, here are 10 things I love about you:

1. you can always make me laugh, even when  I am grumpy

2. you treat me the way every woman on this earth should be treated

3. you are always there to comfort me and walk by my side during my times of trail

4. your kindness and integrity towards me and the people you come in contact with makes you a real man

5. you take me on fun adventures no one else would dare to and you’re right there next to me

6. the little looks you give me and your hugs make me feel secure

7. your heart that found the part of me that brings out the best of us

8. you refuse to ever completely grow up

9. you make me feel like the luckiest woman

10. you are my best friend

(11. you were such a big help and comfort during the days of my transplant, organizing and getting everyone to the hospital and making sure their needs were met)

You have been such a blessing in my life and I am grateful to have you with me through this journey of life! Thanks for being you and for taking a chance on me. I love you!

2 Months

It’s not how far you fall

but how you land on your feet

that matters

I usually land pretty well

Today I am teetering a bit

and teetering is only human

until you get pushed.

I’m sitting in a small patient room down at UCSD. Waiting. I hear footsteps outside my door. They get louder and then they fade. It’s a busy world outside my door.

There’s been a debate the last couple of weeks about performing a biopsy on ‘B’idney, who has been leaking some protein in the urine. It wouldn’t be much of a debate, except the patient, me, is causing a little resistance. The resistance being that I am fiercely protective of ‘B’idney and don’t want anything invasive touching him, especially if the results aren’t going to change the course of treatment. I can be stubborn. It’s in my Asian gene. Can’t help it.

The doctor’s enter and are thoroughly amused that I am typing away on my laptop as I wait. I am blogging. People will tell you I am a quick learner. It doesn’t take me long to come up with ideas to be productive on the days I have to wait up to a few hours in clinic. It was dragging my friend along for company. Then came books. Now it’s my loyal laptop that I got for Christmas, which I LOVE.

Discussions start about my lab results. They are looking good. My creatinine  is down a bit, which tickles me as I’m a bit obsessed about results. I’m starting to feel better about my visit, thinking I can avoid the topic of biopsy. Then enters the attending physician. And along with him follows the bad news. My kidney is still leaking protein in my urine. It’s getting worse. My concern was addressed. Doctor Steiner’s understands my concern especially since it’s only a 50/50 chance of finding something worth treating, however, his concern was that since leaking protein is unusual at this stage of post transplantation, he’s concerned it may be an issue of rejection. I can’t really counter that argument. So, we briefly talk about the biopsy and ‘the date’ is set for next Friday, the 22 of February. It’s set.

As I walk towards my car, my gait waivers a bit. I try to stay strong and fight back the feelings as a solo tear rolls down my face. I am totally bummed. A feeling of roller coaster emotions enter as I went from a high to a low. A thought enters my mind, wondering if the worst happens, will I be able to go through this again? I would be better just staying on dialysis instead of getting a taste of the gold only to have it dissipate.  As I continue walking, I plant my feet firmly one in front of another. I say a prayer and know this too shall pass and I will be okay.