Blokey had his clinic this week. I have to be honest, I was slightly more than a little slightly scared; it’s been two months since his last appointment and although he hasn’t shown any signs that his level are out of whack, two months is a hugely long time and anybody who knows about CKD and/or transplant rejection knows that some of the symptoms can be silent and sneaky. So, in Good News (fuck off Fate) we haven’t heard back from a panicked Hospital to say Blokey is screwed. I shall raise my
glass of sparkling mug of coffee to this and quietly cheer, Huzzah!
His biggest disappointment is that he weighs the same as he did two months ago. I offered praise that he’s able to maintain, but nope, he wanted to lose. I asked him if he wanted to come to Weight Watchers with me. He declined.
The Research Team (remember the cuffs, the stoppage of blood pumping through the body, the theory that getting the kidney used to occasional lack of blood passing through it will cause it less stress when it’s removed and dumped in another body, or something, perhaps I’m wrong) stuck a cannula in Blokey’s non-fistula arm and insisted on taking blood intermittantly over the course of four hours. Apparently it’s done in a private clinic at Hospital (due to being privately funded research) which we didn’t get to visit last year due to Blokey’s non-existent MRSA keeping us from going anywhere in Hospital other than the transplant ward. They gave him copious amounts of orange juice (it was the only liquid he was allowed to drink apart from water, which he hates). Then he came home, with promises that he’ll receive the first published report. He doesn’t think they’ll want to see him again as they have access to his medical notes and will get everything they need from that. No more orange juice in private clinics.
I have my first annual check up at the end of the month. Unfortunately it isn’t with the Delectable Dr. Neph, Phwoar (bugger) but it is with the Living Donor Lady who calmed me down and made me laugh the night before the transplant. This reminds me that I must buy the Living Donor Team at Hospital a card and some chocolates to say thank you. It’s something I should have done many months ago but I think the one year-ish anniversary will suffice. I’m not worried about the appointment. However, I am hesitant. I’ll have my blood pressure taken, urine examined and the Vampires will insist on taking some blood away and everything should be hunky-dory … off you go, see you next year KatieF! I’m hesitant rather than worried because I’m 99.999% convinced there is nothing wrong with me, but there’s still the niggle that they may find something out of place, or something. But that’s what the annual check up is for … it would be silly not to take advantage of it and then be like Blokey and find out too late that something is off-kilter …
And so life goes on …
(Day 353, NO DIALYSIS!!!)