The Blokey had his tri-monthly (I may have made that up; I have no idea how often he has them) Big Appointment with the nephrologist this week.
He left it safe in the knowledge that he could drop down dead at any time, unless his bones eat themselves all up first.
In ordinary speak, his potassium is still too high at 6.6 (the tippy-top of the acceptable level,where it’s verging on being dangerous is 6), but they’re happy with his diet and think that the Blood Baby is the cause. He still has the Blood Baby. I think it’s littler now, though.
His bones really are eating themselves, but his calcium levels are fine.
In Good News his phosphate levels are perfect-o-ment so he can continue drinking his Coke Zero every couple of days. Huzzah!
Immediately after his appointment he toddled off to do his dialysis session and they decided to use his fistula for the first time.
I am actually really proud of Blokey. Before all this kidneykrap began he was petrified of needles. I remember the first Accident & Emergency trip where they took about half an hour to find a vein in order to take his blood oxygen. I think that must have been the worst moment of his life (up to that point.) Then when he went on dialysis he was AdamAnt (sorry, I can’t write that word without thinking of dandy princes) that he was going to keep the line in his chest until he got a transplant. After having the fistula surgery he started talking about learning to stick himself. Suddenly he’s coming home and telling me, Oh, by the way, they used my fistula for the first time and it didn’t hurt.
Can we say, Wowsers?!
Of course, it was Raj who hooked him up for his first fistula-use session. Raj is apparently the Best Sticker, but he only tends to do the first time and then leaves it to the other nurses for the subsequent times. I’m waiting for the text/phone call which is nothing but screams of pain (he’s at dialysis right now.) It’s going to happen isn’t it? I mean, nothing (at all) ever goes right for Blokey; I know this because he tells me so every single day.
I am (literally) touching wood (or close enough; I have no idea what my desk is made of) in the hope that it wards off the evil negative vibes I’ve just allowed into the equation. I want this to work (and work well) so much. After the failure of PD it HAS to work, and with as little negativity as possible.
*toddles off to wait whilst playing with a pussy who thinks it’s the pinnacle of fun-ness to chew through electrical cables*