This is the account of one week in my life. Although full it is very much an ordinary life, I hope it shows that renal failure is not the end of life but just a different phase.
Weds 4th June: A work day; I am very fortunate that the civil service, in my case the MoD, takes a realistic view of my situation and allows me to work from home when I need; so two days a week I take work home in the afternoon to do as I dialyse. I am currently working on a large helicopter support package and as there is lots of reading and note making its an ideal job for me.
My five hours of dialysis takes me up to about 7.30pm and, once I have rinsed the machine, I take the dogs across the fields in the evening sunshine. I am a little “light” and find the uphill stretch of the walk a bit draining - but it does me good and the dogs would complain bitterly if they didn't get a walk.
Thurs 5th June: Today is the seventh anniversary of my starting haemodialysis; as an anniversary its one that doesn’t really deserve any special recognition. Well not now anyway - in the early days, and probably for the first few months, I’d leap out of my chair if the phone went after about 10pm just in case it was the transplant unit - now I am equally convinced that it, a transplant, will happen but I no longer anticipate it.
When the call never came I gradually began to realise that dialysis is just another stage in life; I don’t feel it is particularly burdensome - inconvenient at times - but things could be a whole lot worse. In many ways it gives me an incentive to do other things, for example, my Open University degree - if I am forced to sit quietly for fifteen or so hours a week I thought I’d better use it constructively. And it was “Gaussian plume dispersion modelling” which grabbed my attention (well, very slightly) after work - despite wanting to be off fishing.
Fri 6th June: Work in the morning passes fairly quickly and I’m home to dialyse at lunchtime. I don’t get on very well with my afternoon’s work because we are planning a weekend away and I have a map in my hand. I finish at 7pm and by 8pm we are travelling north. Our objective is Pershore and a weekend “rally” organised by Wychavon Canoe Club. We get there at 10.30pm, set up the tent, take the dogs for a walk, cook up a supper over our stove and retire to the bar for a drink or two where we find out the next day’s plans.
Sat 7th June: Well it didn’t rain too much during the night - up bright (dull really) and early (no lie there) to take the dogs for their morning walk and then its a mega breakfast and off to put in for the first days canoeing. Everyone on the rally is most amused that we have two dogs with us as we set off down the River Avon. The weather is hot and, not being a great deal of flow, quite hard work.
About five hours after we started we reach the end of the days paddle; there is a weir which is “shootable” but, as we are fairly novice in the Canadian canoe (I have kayaked quite a bit in the past) and as we have the dogs, we initially decide we will just watch everyone else have a go... but something gets the better of me and we “go for it”. Its only a small weir with a drop of say four feet and nobody else had any trouble - but we hit the bottom and go straight over.
So, there is me, my wife and two dogs having an unplanned swim - suddenly the safety cover provided by the local canoe club is struggling madly to rescue my wife whilst the dogs and I paddle about in circles in the water!! My wife duly back in the canoe, a few disinterested rescuers reluctantly pull the dogs and I out of the water! After that I take the rest of the day easily. Big barbeque and much beer consumption (what fluid allowance?) accompanies tales of monster weirs and complete strangers asking how the dogs enjoyed their swim!
Sun 8th June: Another early start to be on the river for quite a long days paddle - 10 miles or so - we don’t take any chances with the weirs and just paddle on through the Worcestershire countryside in blazing sunshine. We stop for lunch in a field and watch some of the experts at play in the whitewater below one of the weirs we decided to carry our boat round. As we near the end the heavens open for a thunder shower - but we complete the journey without falling in. We just about have the energy left to lift the canoe onto the car and soon we are bumbling down the M5 to home. No rush to get ready for work tomorrow as I have another appointment.
Mon 9th June: Outpatients appointment in the morning at the renal unit. I have a number of problems with going to outpatients; the first is not seeing the same person each time - I find it rather annoying to be asked how long I have been on dialysis when its written down in front of them in my notes and on the computer screen. The second complaint is people who try and baffle me with science then end by saying something like “its very complicated; I don’t want to confuse you”. This is just plain condescending; kidney patients take an interest in what’s happening to them (I know of one who follows academic publications on the subject avidly) and if something is complicated it should be explained if the patient wants to know.
Of course it is equally condescending to have everything explained in terms of “bad things in your blood”. On this occasion I do not see the regular consultant but a registrar who seems concerned about things that haven’t featured before and as ever I seem to leave no more enlightened as to how things really are. I think perhaps the consultant’s registrars feel that patients should be happy just to be in the land of the living; personally I am glad for that certainly but feel a holistic approach is needed because all patients are more than just “kidney failure”.
Fortunately I have a very good Home Team nurse who has the time to explain things and if I say “look, when I start running at the start of a cricket game I get a tight chest: What’s happening?” he will go away and say that, because I am active, my blood count is lower than it should be so take more EPO. It takes the whole morning to go to and from Bristol for the ten minute appointment so I don’t go back to work but dialyse - that goes smoothly and as I finish fairly early I potter around the garden.
Tues 10th June: An early start at work so that I can travel up to Farnborough to see the company we are dealing with. The work is fairly tedious as there isn’t a great deal of excitement to be wrung from 200 pages of detailed contract terms and conditions - but the lunch was good!! Escape from Farnborough as early as possible to speed back down the A303 to play cricket.
We are playing the Signals Regiment and they are very, very keen; few cricket teams I know have a rugby style motivation session in the changing rooms before they go out to field. I am down to bat number three and watch as our openers struggle against some fast short pitched bowling on a very bouncy wicket.
I find myself going into bat in the third over; I score an early single and then face their opener. His first ball is short and I go to hook it and hear a dull thud; at first I thought it had hit me on the nose, but it actually hit my top lip, splitting it up to the nose. Retired Hurt 1. A quick trip to the local A&E. 13 stitches and I’m back to see the opposition hit the winning runs - much as I would like to have a cold beer the combination of the swelling and the anaesthetic would mean that most of it would not make it down my neck.
Oh well, that’s it for cricket for a few weeks - more time for fishing.
Page created: 11 November 1999
Last updated: 19 April 2008
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