Close to Nowhere

After a rocky start, home dialysis is finally working the way it’s supposed to.

I started “training” for home dialysis in mid-April. After about three and a half weeks, nurse/trainer Rebecca cut me loose to stay at home.

My house is no longer recognizable. I have boxes of supplies everywhere ­ and I mean literally everywhere. My living room looks like a storage container, my sewing room is filled with boxes and my bedroom is filled with machines and a special chair for use during dialysis.

The very first time, Rebecca came and spent threeplus hours babysitting me and son Kris, who is now officially my caregiver, at least as far as Fresenius Kidney Care is concerned. I am still allowed to nag him though.

And yes, I do stick myself all the time. That’s actually the easiest part.

The first week without Rebecca was tough. I had to call the support line for help several times a night. At least they are wonderful about telling you what you’re supposed to have done instead of what you actually did.

The second week was worse. One Tuesday night I apparently didn’t tape the needle down correctly and when an alarm went off on the machine, I jumped up to fix it, instead of letting Kris take care of it.

That was a really stupid thing to do. I yanked the needle out of my arm and nearly bled to death.

A couple days after that I was in the hospital. Whenever anyone asked why I was there, my reply was always “stupidity.”

Things are much smoother now. Practice may not make perfect in this case, but it does help. I haven’t had to call the support center in more than a week. I no longer make myself bleed to death and I’m a lot calmer.

I’m not sure about Kris though. After me nearly bleeding to death, he’s gotten even more nervous than he was before. He’s still not real sure I know what I’m doing.

Actually, neither am I. But, I’m no longer driving back and forth to Oxford every day. Now that I’m getting the hang of it, it’s becoming routine and boring. And for that, I’m so grateful.