Being prepared

It is really hard to write about disaster preparedness because there is SO MUCH to think about! First, let's get the Zombie Apocalypse preparation out of the way. It's quite easy.

See. Nothing to it. :)

As I mentioned in my previous post, the areas to the north and east of me were heavily flooded. A lot of snow over the winter and heavy rains this spring have resulted in a lot of run off from the mountains. It all combined during one deluge in one day. The people of High River still haven't been allowed back into their town and they're getting angry. A few people managed to sneak into their houses (making their way past police barricades) and were promptly electrocuted when they decided to try and turn the lights on in their still flooded homes.  There's a reason common sense isn't so common anymore.

Anyway, I'm getting a little off-track here! My intention is to talk about disaster preparedness, not other people's lack of common sense! :)

Disaster can strike in many ways: flooding, tornadoes, earthquakes, fire, etc. The flooding that occurred in Calgary and surrounding areas, happened in under 30 minutes but continued on over a couple of days. People had almost no time to gather their things, run to their cars, and escape the area. Now, imagine being on dialysis and trying to gather up the things you need to survive. Not only are you a human trying to survive, you are a person with a chronic illness trying to survive.
Doubly stressful.

First and foremost, you will need your cycler. If I had 15 minutes to leave my home, that is about the only thing other than my computers, changes of clothes, and phone that I would grab. Everything else is replaceable. I would leave the supplies up to Baxter to deal with. They have warehouses full of stuff; I don't need to be hauling it around in an emergency. Same goes for prescriptions. Everything is on file with your pharmacy or doctor's office. They can take care of your prescriptions.

Insurance papers and pictures of your things. I am a bit OCD, so I have pictures of all my stuff in with my insurance papers. This way, if I lose my house to fire or something, I have a record of all my possessions. Possessions are just things, but I pay insurance so they can be replaced in the event of loss.

STAY ORGANIZED. Keep all your important documents in one place. Preferably in a fire-proof lock box. That's in a perfect world. I have all mine in a Rubbermaid container. But it's still easy to grab, and everything is there.

What's your backup plan? Do you have people you can stay with if you need to get out? Do you have an emergency fund so you can pay for a hotel until you are reimbursed? Do you know your area well enough to take alternate routes out?

Do you have an emergency kit with flashlights, batteries, water, canned food, matches, blankets, etc? When I lived in Japan, I had an emergency kit in case of an earthquake. It had clothes, water, shoes, a flashlight, extra batteries, and food in it. It was always beside my door in case I needed to leave in a hurry.

Do you have enough food and water in your house to survive a power outage? If you're in an area that has ice storms (like southern Ontario), do you have a back up generator?
What would you do about your dialysis in case of a power outage (hint: manual exchanges).

My intent is not to create a sense of fear, but instead a sense of awareness that being prepared is better than panicking. Yes, you will still probably panic, but at least you will be prepared and being on dialysis won't be such a big thing for you or others in the event of an emergency. The better prepared you are, the more in control you will feel.

If I missed anything or you can add anything, please do!

RachelT

To share or not to share?

There are people in my life who have known me for many years who do not know that I am a PD patient.  I simply haven't told them.  It never mattered.  My closest friends and family know, of course.  But sometimes I need to get a feel for a person's personality before I share anything related to PD.

Why?  Because of the pity issue.

One thing I have been very protective of since becoming a PD patient is my ability to be viewed as a complete person and just as I am.  I've been disappointed in the past by people who forget to treat me as a friend and instead treat me as a "sick person."

Rachel and I were talking once about the difference between someone saying, "Hey!  How are you?" and someone tilting their head to the side and gently saying, "Hey... how ARE you?"  It's frustrating when people assume that your need to do dialysis makes you somehow sad all the time and deserving of sympathy.  The option to do PD instead of hemo is a choice that gives me freedom to feel much more "normal" in my daily living.  As soon as I button my pants, my disability is hidden.  And I like it that way.

When I meet people, I need time to get to know them and see how they behave and how/if they gossip about other people in their lives.  If someone is a real talker and loves to share personal information about other people just to sound more interesting, they certainly don't need to know about my private issues. 

My closest friends never bring up PD.  If there's something I want to share with them, I will.  We have so many other things to talk about.  It seems trite to spend our time together to blah blah blah about the PD process.  And it makes me feel like a complete person.  Not a person with issues, unable to take the focus away from myself.

I've met people with various disabilities who just love to talk about their problems.  I understand the frustration and the importance of their concerns, but after a while it gets to be too much.  I really wanted to avoid being that person.  I didn't want my identity to be "the PD girl."  There's got to be more to a person than just their disability.

It's not rooted in shame.  It's rooted in finding appropriate outlets for discussing my issues.  And setting aside time for PD-specific talk with people I love.  And not bringing it to light every single time we meet.  Also, I love the ability to keep my PD to myself and let people get to know me as I am - as a person - before they put any sort of PD label on me.  It makes me stronger and more confident.

Choosing PD over hemo is another way to exert control in my life.  To find privacy when I need it.  To live more closely to my ideals.  And to define myself with my own parameters.

- Rachael M.

upcoming post

http://news.nationalpost.com/2013/06/20/pictures-and-videos-of-massive-flooding-in-canmore-and-southern-alberta/

This is what's been going on in this part of the world over the past week. Therefore, I started thinking about what dialysis/PD patients should do in case of an emergency. I'm planning to post by Friday, but I just wanted to give a heads up on topic and why I haven't posted recently. I am south of Calgary, so wasn't affected in the same way as the people in Calgary, Canmore, High River, and Medicine Hat. Thankfully. But more on that by Friday.

Drain Bags and Dreams

A couple of thoughts are floating around in my brain today.  Just some information that I feel should be here - and if I don't write it, I'm sure I'll forget it.

1.  Something that the training staff/doctors don't tell PD patients is that PD has quirks.  They usually aren't PD patients themselves and have no actual experience with the process.  They don't know what it feels like to have a slow drain, to have to sit up to complete a drain, or to deal with the actual equipment.  Something I think is worth mentioning is the situation of using a drain bag.

Some cycler users run the tubing from the catheter straight into a tub or toilet.  This is a good option for people who have a convenient layout in their homes.  I don't use this method because of the location of the bathroom in relation to the bed.  It would be a tripping hazard for my husband.  Also, I have cats.  And I don't want to tempt them with a tube of bubbling fluid that looks like it would be fun to play with.  So I use a drain bag to collect the dialysis fluid.

A drain bag is exactly what it sounds like.  A big, square, plastic bag.  What happens is that most people who are going to use a drain bag are told to "put it on the floor."  Well.  Let me tell you what kind of nightmare this can create.

All it takes is one clamp that isn't fully closed and the drain bag will leak all of its contents onto that floor.  And if you have carpet in your home, you may be calling a cleaning company or possibly having carpet replaced.  Imagine 10 or more liters of fluid just seeping into your floor.  It's awful.  I've seen posts on various online forums with people asking how to clean up after these accidents.  Remember - the fluid you are removing is very much like urine.  And that's what would spill out all over the floor.  Not pleasant.

I was never advised about this - it's just something I figured out and really think should be shared with anyone who uses a drain bag.  Get a plastic bin from the store (Target, WalMart, etc.) and put the drain bag inside the plastic bin.  Just make that part of your setup routine.  Over the past seven years or so, I have woken up to a plastic bin full of leaked fluid several times.  I've forgotten to close a clamp.  And I can dump the plastic bin into the tub.  And not think about having to clean the carpet.  Which would be a horrible mess.

Save yourself the agony of a possible cleaning crisis and use a plastic bin if you use a drain bag.


2.  A peculiar side effect of starting on the cycler is PD dreams.  Since being on PD, it seems like a few times a month I have quasi-nightmares involving the cycler tubing.  I dream that I am at a party and I'm still connected to my machine.  Or that I have disconnected from my cycler and can't find a cap to close my catheter.

I think this is normal and natural.  We are trained on the specifics of actually doing PD, but not on how to deal with it emotionally.  That burden is left to us to figure out.  I think PD dreams are part of my mind's way of expressing frustration or fear.  When you think about it, it's a little strange being connected to a machine at night.  Sometimes I feel like an astronaut, connected to the ship by a tube and I can only go so far because of my lifeline.

Maybe you won't experience the strange PD dreams, but if you do, just know you are not alone.

- Rachael M.

starting PD

I’ve been thinking about this post all week. I want to make this post simple and clear, not overloaded with information.

Rachael spoke previously about the idea of Why PD? Our answer is always Why not?? It’s so much easier on the body than hemo and really gives you a sense of control over your health and welfare.

For this post I want to talk a little more about the process of starting on PD. Your clinic likely offers an orientation when you start on dialysis and presens  all types of therapy to you. You can do at home hemo, in clinic hemo, and PD.  They will of course say that a transplant is the optimal form of therapy, but is it really? We all know what the waiting lists are like and you might even know what it’s like to want a living donor, but are too hesitant to ask family and friends to donate because it is a BIG DEAL.

That’ll be another post for another day! J

I decided very quickly that I wanted to switch from hemo to PD. At first, I hadn’t been interested in doing anything other than what I was doing because I was still adjusting to the idea of being on dialysis and adjusting my life to that whole process. However, I got a job working nights and dragging myself to the dialysis clinic after working all night and sitting on a machine for 3 hours was REALLY unappealing. Thus, my decision was made to switch to PD.

I was working a week on-week off rotation and the surgeon booked me in for catheter placement surgery on the Tuesday of my week off. In my naivete I thought a week of recovery would be more than enough. HAHAHA. It wasn’t.

The catheter surgery is a day surgery procedure. I checked in to the hospital in the morning, the surgery happened at about 1pm and I was home by 5. My only instructions were to keep an eye on the catheter site for bleeding through the bandages and to NOT MOVE AROUND.

Unfortunately, the catheter site wouldn’t stop bleeding, so I drove myself in to emerg and a surgical resident did a little bit of restitching on the catheter to close the site a little tighter. That helped and I began the healing process. I have a REALLY hard time sitting still, so my healing time was perhaps a little longer than normal. I ended up taking an extra week off work because I still couldn’t move around freely. It didn’t hurt, it was just tender and prone to bleeding (because I kept moving around).

I still continued to do hemo while the catheter site healed. I think it took about a month before I started on PD. In that time I also did the PD training – a full day of instruction and practice using the cycler, setting up bags, learning about alarms and proper care & treatment. The training was excellent and the only problem I had was the nurse yelling at me because she was used to training elderly patients with bad hearing. I did tell her that she didn't need to yell, and that helped. J

One bad/disappointing/frustrating moment while all this was going on – and hopefully this reminds nurses out there how important it is to be encouraging. One nurse had the gall to tell me that PD didn’t usually work on patients because the catheter floated up inside the peritoneal cavity instead of staying lower down like it should. She told me that I shouldn't get my hopes up. Boy, was I pissed off. So, nurses, even if you think that, keep your mouths shut. Please and thanks. J

The worst part for me, and I've had people agree and disagree with me here, was the flushing of the line once the healing was well underway and I was ready to start PD on my own at home. PAIN. Oh my heavens. Pain. I have tattoos and and those didn't hurt AT ALL. Getting the line flushed was pain and nausea all rolled into one. I’m not sure if it was the temperature of the solution or what. I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Oh wait, I did.

I’d like to tell you why the line flush is important or necessary, but I’m not remembering why. It might have to do with the healing of the catheter, or the solution that’s put into the tubing during the surgery. I can definitely ask and get back to you. I just remember that it was not pleasant. Like I said before, though, I’ve talked to people who have had no pain during the flushing process. So there is hope that yours will be pain free, too!

I first started out doing manual exchanges 4 times a day. The exchanges take about 20 minutes and I would do them in my kitchen and do dishes or read while draining and filling. After a couple of months of that, I was able to switch over to the cycler as I had the right type of peritoneal membrane for the cycler. There are four types of perintoneal membrane, with two of those types being right to use the cycler. You’ll want to speak more to your nephrologist or PD nurse about that.

To wrap up, switching to PD was the best decision for me. It is easy, I have more energy, and I feel –almost- like a normal person. I like that I can hook myself up at night, go to sleep, and be done in the morning. I like that I can control the machine and set it up for MY schedule. I’m not at the whim of a clinic and a clinic schedule. I don’t have to worry that I’ll get a nurse who is in a hurry, overworked, distracted, or just in general pissy while poking me with needles. I like that there are no needles, period.

Don’t get stuck thinking that your form of therapy is your only choice because your doctor chose it for you. Be the manager of your care and fight for your care, your comfort, your health, and your body.

 Coming up: why I'm on PD and why I'm not pursuing a transplant (yet).

RachelT

Why aren't more people doing PD?

When I explain PD to someone, I give them a lot of positive information.  Things like:

No needles - no blood.

Privacy.

Fewer dietary/fluid intake restrictions.

No 3-4 hour appointments three times a week.

No spikes in blood pressure or stress on the body.

Using the cycler means your whole day is free.


And they usually respond, "Then, why are people still choosing to do hemodialysis?"

I can only answer with my own opinions, of course.  When I was recovering from the PD catheter surgery and attending my final hemo appointments, I asked several patients at the clinic if they were considering PD.  They all said no for various reasons.  Things like:

It's too scary.

I don't want medical equipment in my home - my children would be scared.

I can relax here and let someone else do the work.

It's likely that I will get an infection.

I don't understand it.


Which is a shame, because there were plenty of folks at the hemo clinic who might benefit from doing PD.  There were patients as young as 19 who could possibly have enjoyed full days of life without visits to the hemo clinic. 

To tackle the main objections, I say this:

It's not scary.  It's actually quite easy.  I spend about 15 - 20 minutes setting up my cycler.  Right before I go to bed, I connect and slip off to sleep.  I wake up dialyzed.  And go on about my day.  There's nothing scary about that.  Occasionally, I will kink the tubing or get into an awkward sleeping position and an alarm will sound.  And I hit a button and move my body and all is well.  Back to sleep.  I don't feel the dialysis happening.  Some people experience an end-of-drain pain.  That is when you are emptying fluid and it's "pulling" on your abdomen.  It's like a cramp and can be annoying, but goes away when you start to fill with fluid again.  It all feels very gentle and natural.  You fill with warmed fluid, you drain the fluid.   And if you are doing manual exchanges, this process happens with the aid of an IV pole instead of a machine.  When I did manual exchanges, I sat at my home office desk and surfed the Internet during the draining/filling process.

The medical equipment in your home is not scary.  Manual PD-ers will have boxes of solution and supplies.  An IV pole.  And that's about it.  If there are children in the house, I think they would be interested in the science of it all.  And happy to have a parent who doesn't disappear for the hemo appointments and feel "wiped out" after hemodialysis.  The equipment for the cycler is even less visible.  The machine sits by the side of the bed and there isn't any use of it during the day.  Being honest with your family about your dialysis needs isn't scary.  It's part of the acceptance of kidney disease.  My family feels happy for me that I have a way to take care of myself that fits in with my lifestyle. 

Sure, you can let someone else do the work at the hemo clinic.  Along with dozens of other patients.  You are visible to everyone.  No privacy.  Sitting in a chair for a few hours and smelling all the not-so-lovely smells of a hemo unit.  Hearing alarms going off constantly.   Watching people have anxiety attacks.  Having a mix of non-ambulatory and non-communicative patients from nursing homes.  I have seen people have heart attacks and strokes while on hemo.  And there is no way to escape what you see.  With PD, the process is gentle on the body and doesn't cause the foot and leg cramps that hemo can.  And PD is done in the comfort and privacy of your own home or office or wherever you choose.  If you are new to kidney issues, and you have a dialysis decision to make soon, visit a hemo clinic first.  Go and walk through and see if it feels right for you.  It was not right for me.  I was resentful of how much time I had to spend there.  Sure, someone else did all the work for me but that was at the expense of much of daily life.

Infections are scary.  PD patients are trained well on how to make clean connections and disconnections with our catheters.  Easy steps are in place to keep you healthy.  Wear a mask.  Wash your hands.  Move quickly and cleanly.  Don't let your pets chew on the tubing.  Don't assume your floor is somehow cleaner than everyone else's - if something falls on the floor, discard it and follow protocol for a clean connection to your catheter.  It becomes habit over time.  It gets easier to do PD wisely and carefully.  It's second nature for me after all these years.  If you get an infection, think about what you can do to better protect yourself.  And if the infection is a fluke that can't be traced to your actions or an accidental incident, your PD nurse will talk you through the steps for treating it.  In my opinion, PD patients are trained to have a healthy dose of fear of infections.  Which isn't a bad thing.  And you'll find a way to do your dialysis routine in a way that keeps you healthy and safe.  Follow the steps that you have learned and don't obsess about infection.  Just do your best to avoid them. 

If you don't understand exactly what PD is and you are reading this blog, ask any questions you have.  Send us an email.  Look online for all available resources.  Visit a PD clinic.  Take some time to get that understanding.  Doctors and nurses can give you the facts.  Rachel and I can share our experiences.  No question is "bad" or inappropriate.  We want to help you figure it out and possibly enhance your dialysis experience.  Not knowing how PD works might keep you from trying it, but if you develop an understanding of PD you might find that it is a better dialysis option for you.


Questions?  We are always here to help. 

- RM

The journey

This was a reminder that I needed to read!

I was going to talk about the start of being on PD--getting the catheter, flushing the line, etc. but I came across the above quote and had a bit of an aha moment on Friday that I've been ruminating over all weekend.  So next time I'll write about all that fun stuff. :)

On Friday, I was in an orientation session at my new job and I really--I mean, REALLY--realized that other people have their own shit going on. Yes, dialysis is a big thing, but other things are big for other people. My issues are important because they are my issues, the same as other people's issues are important to them because they are their issues. Have I said this already? The woman sitting next to me was diabetic, the woman across from me had some kind of lymphedema condition. For them, those things are a part of who they are. They have to manage their conditions on a daily basis, the same way I do. And we are all more than our disease or condition.

Of course I know that, and I'll say it to other people, but do I believe it? Not everyday.

I think acceptance can be hard. I think it's OK to grieve for the things you might miss. For example, unless I have a transplant, I can't have children. Am I OK with that? Mostly, yes. Do I still need to grieve? Yes. And I have to give myself permission to do so.

You have to give yourself permission to get pissed off, to cry, to rant, to be happy, to chase your dreams, to fall in or out of love, to LIVE. We are on a journey. We are not planning to arrive at a destination (say, a successful transplant) and THEN live. We want to live NOW. To embrace what is happening now. I am not always grateful for this life on dialysis, but I should be thankful every single day because every single day it means I am alive. I woke up this morning and I was breathing. That's a pretty good day already. :)

So I learned a lesson this weekend that other people have big things going on in their lives and that I am not the only one. We all have a story. Take time to listen to what other people have to say. We are all on a journey. Join up with other people and connect.
Accept it. Embrace it. Rock it.:)

RachelT

Answering the questions I couldn't ask

After a few weeks of hemodialysis, a clinic technician suggested PD to me.  She said that it was a good choice for people who want to stay independent.  When I started to look into it, there wasn't much to look into.  I got some basic information, but I wanted to talk to an actual PD patient about the reality of it.  However, I didn't know any.

I attended a few training sessions and watched some very cheesy videos.  And read some very dry brochures.  I understood that PD was potentially a better choice for me, but a lot of questions were swirling around in my head.  Now that I have been doing PD for many years, I can answer them for you.  In case you also wonder the kind of strange things that I sometimes wondered.


Q:  Will people think I am pregnant?

A:  Obviously, if you are a man, no.  But for women, this is a sensitive issue.  Putting fluid into the abdomen sounds like a recipe for image disaster.  In my mind, I imagined myself with a big, round, fat belly.  I assumed the fluid would collect in a big bump in my gut.  I didn't know what it would really look like.  As it turns out, the fluid fills the abdominal cavity and only when I had particularly large amounts of fluid dwelling did it visibly register.  And even then it was minimal.  I didn't even have to buy new clothes.  And nobody asked me about it.


Q:  Will the fluid make me feel full all the time, causing me to lose my appetite?

A:  This is actually a possibility for some people.  It depends on how much fluid you carry.  For me, when my weight is low, higher amounts of fluid do make me want to eat less.  So I keep lower amounts of fluid in my body during the day to avoid losing my appetite.  Using the cycler also eliminates the need for me to have a lot of fluid dwelling during the day.


Q:  Will my catheter get caught on my clothing or be visible to people?

A:  No.  Tape it down and pull your underwear up.  No problem.


Q:  If I use the cycler machine, will I be stuck in bed if there is an emergency?

A:  No.  There are screw-on caps for your catheter.  If you need or want to get out of bed, you can disconnect easily and safely.  I sometimes disconnect if I have insomnia and go into the living room to watch tv.  Cycler cassettes (the equipment with the tubing connecting you to the machine) have different lengths of tubing.  Make sure you ask for one that is long enough for your needs (long enough to allow you to reach the bathroom from your bed - it's nice to have that convenience without disconnecting in case you need to get there quick).


Q:  Is it difficult to sleep comfortably with the cycler tubing connected to me during the night?

A:  Not for me.  It just sort of falls off the side of the bed.  You figure it out pretty quick and are able to change sleeping positions as you need to.  You can also control the settings on the cycler to quiet the alarms and turn off the lighted display.


Q:  When I drain fluid out of my body, will it be bloody or scary looking?

A:  Generally, no.  Most of the time it will look like urine.  A light yellow fluid.  Occasionally, when you strain yourself, you might burst a tiny blood vessel.  When this happens, a few drops of blood will drain out with the fluid.  However, even a few drops of blood can tint the fluid pink or red.  It will look like you are losing a lot of blood, but you're not.  Bloody drain fluid can be startling, but in most cases it is a very temporary thing.  You will be trained on what to do if it continues, but it usually goes away very quickly.


Q:  If my manual PD prescription involves four exchanges per day with a full bag of fluid, how can I enjoy myself if I want to go bowling/dancing/out for all-you-can-eat buffet?  Won't I be uncomfortable?

A:  Your PD prescription is designed to give you the best possible benefits of dialysis.  If you follow your prescription regularly, it will support better health.  As an independent person, when opportunities for having fun come up, you will want to take advantage of them.  What I do when these occasions arise is simply adjust the amount of fluid in my body.  If I know I have plans to go out for a big steak dinner or to a party with dancing or for a long day of shopping, I want to be extremely comfortable.  For that time, I will fill with a minimal amount of dialysate and enjoy myself.  Then get right back on track with my usual prescription amounts.  One afternoon or evening with less solution inside the body does not undo all of my efforts to take care of myself.


I'm sure I'll think of more issues that had me perplexed before actually starting PD.  I'll post them when I do.  And I'll happily answer your questions as well.

- RM

A Question of Honesty

Rachel's previous post about dating while on PD started a conversation between us that kept peeling away layers of honest concerns.  And revealed more concerns. 

Before I go nutty on the post I had planned, I want to support what Rachel is saying.  And add a few thoughts.

We can tell you all the good stuff about doing PD.  We would be lying if we said there were no issues.  And since we agreed to be completely truthful about our PD experiences, there are some aspects of PD that present concerns.  One of our primary goals for blogging about PD is that we hope to write the blog we wish we could have read when we started on PD.  We wanted to write about the real experiences that your medical team can't tell you about.  Here are some thoughts that came to mind after reading Rachel's amazing post.

1.  You know this, but here it is in black and white:  There will be a catheter on the outside of our bodies.  A plastic tube.  A thing.  A piece of medical equipment.  Hanging off the outside of the body.  Can you handle this?  You probably can.  But be prepared for days when you resent it.  When I tell someone that I am a dialysis patient, sometimes they tell me, "You look wonderful!"  What I think they mean is, "You look wonderful - with your clothes on!"  It can be a struggle to accept the new physicality of PD.  Once I get my pants on, I feel normal.  When I see myself out of the shower with the catheter, it can be quite striking.  And I mean "striking" as in... unusual.  It's just not what you expect to see on a body.

2.  The catheter is the thing that defines our disability.  If there wasn't a catheter, the whole issue of dialysis would be completely hidden.  But that's not possible with PD.  The catheter is a lifeline.  But it can come to represent a lot more.  And can take over our definitions of ourselves.  Can you deal with that?  It's an unusual kind of accommodation for dialysis.  It makes so much of our lives really great.  But it's always there.  And changes your body.

3.  When we see someone who has gone through chemotherapy, we tell them they are brave and beautiful.  Do we not also deserve that for ourselves?  Of course we do.  But we are a nearly-hidden population and people may not even know what we go through.  So we should be telling ourselves this.  We want to encourage positive motivation, but acknowledge that self-esteem can be a hurdle.  I find that when I meet someone with an obvious disability or physical affectation, I think, "They are so strong and awesome."  Maybe we need to tell this to ourselves more often.  It's something I know I am working through.  Even after all these years on PD.  I would love someone with a disability.  Someone can love me, right?  I can love me, too, right?

4.  Are we living normal lives?  Yes and no.  I am doing what I want to do within the few limitations of PD.  Sometimes I wonder if what I really mean is, "PD is great because it's better than hemodialysis."  The point of view changes all the time for me.  I know I don't want to do hemo.  But really, I also don't want to do any dialysis.  I just chose the method that works for me.  Am I honestly dealing with the self-image issues and limitations or am I smiling through the disappointments?  For the most part, I am okay with all of this.  PD was so incredibly freeing after trying hemo, so I'm comparatively happy.  Just know that there will be days when you feel like all is right with your PD-filled life.  And there will be days when you might resent it.  It's kind of a big deal.  We need it to survive.  So, maybe that sense of need causes us to put aside the resentments.  I mean, what is the alternative?

This blog is alive.  It's changing all the time.  A work in progress.  New ideas and thoughts are going to come up all the time.  And we will try our best to address them with candor and honesty.

Rachel talked about the issues associated with dating while on PD.  Her ability to open up about the truths of her experiences brought a lot of things to the surface that we wanted to discuss.  We have a lot of time to cover a lot of topics.  Every so often we will go off on a tangent and simply talk about what we are feeling at that moment.  We are so thankful you are reading.  And hope you won't feel alone on your PD journey.

- Rachael M.

Dating on dialysis...or not...

Of all the posts that we do, I think this is going to be the hardest one for me to push "publish" on.  Rachael and I promised each other, and therefore you, that we would be totally honest about this dialysis life thing. No glossing it over, no making it sound OK when sometimes it really isn't. I think we both bring positive attitudes to the table, so that definitely helps our health and our outlook and how we take on this challenge of dialysis.

As you can see from the blog title, today's subject is dating. I am single, Rachael is married. She will bring other issues to the relationship dialogue that I can't address.

I have never been big into the dating scene. I like it, it's fun and I've been on some great dates - both before and after dialysis. I don't think I've particularly liked myself enough to have the confidence to date a lot, or even to commit to a relationship. I find it challenging to build up the relationship to the point of being comfortable with another person.
Hmmmmmm.....How can I explain? You know the friendships you have from high school? People that have known you for so long that you don't have to explain yourself to them? I LOVE those relationships, so when dating, I find it exhausting and frustrating to try and get to that point with someone I've just met.

Now add a chronic illness into the mix.

I always struggle with how to tell someone that I'm on dialysis and that it is a major part of my life.  Heck, it is my life. How and when do you tell someone this major thing? Is it a first date confession? A third date revelation? I have never found a balance.
And when I've told someone...well, I've gotten a very good view of their ass as they've hightailed it in the other direction. It IS a big thing to take on, I get that...but I'm still the same person.

So then I start to think that maybe they just needed the excuse to run the other way.

And hello...bing bing bing...*rejection*!

And thus, dating on dialysis sucks.

I don't do it. For the past few (many?) years, I've figured that it's better to shut that part of my life down and focus on work and hobbies and more work so that I don't have to keep putting myself out there in order to be, once again, rejected. It is here that I feel like I am less of a person and more of a disease. I always think - who wants to touch me and my catheter? Honestly, my catheter is a small part of my body, but when it comes to affection, it looms in my head as the ONLY part of my body.

When I was on hemo, I had a central line going from under my collarbone to my heart and it didn't bother me half as much as the catheter on my stomach does. And you could see the central line. Perhaps that's why I was OK with it. People could see it if I wore a v-neck or open collar shirt and it didn't bother me. I was definitely more comfortable with my body and with dating and with being intimate with someone when I was on hemo.

Weird. I wonder why that is.

Anyway, that is my issue. I hope it's not yours. I hope you meet a man or a woman who looks past the disease and into your heart and soul and mind and gets to know you as YOU.

I know we are trying to create a bit of a manual for you to use as you move through a life on dialysis; I wish in this area that I had some good advice, but right now I don't. I've said to Rachael that this blog is better than therapy; and as we progress with our writing, perhaps I will resolve some of the issues I have and become more at peace with dating while on dialysis. And then I'll write fun posts about things to do that don't tire you out and how to break the news to someone and how great it is to have someone in your corner.  And how someone looks giving you a hug instead of running the other way. :)

I'd like to get to the point where I don't care what people think. That what people see is what they get and if they don't like it, screw 'em. I have a lot to offer and ... and ... but I'm not there yet.

So maybe you, our readers, will have advice for me on this topic instead of the other way around! :) (and going back on hemo is NOT the option I'm looking for!) :)

Thanks for listening.
RachelT