Dialysis Humor

 

Dialysis: Humor, Pictures, Stories and Poems

Pictures:

"When blood sprouts, just keep calm?"

"I got this comment a lot"

"Don't give up! Humor can get you through almost anything."

"People on the national organ wait list hope to get "the call" that will change their lives."

"well All this "thingys" are good things to have!!!!

Poems:

A Place

There is a place that I know where people go to save their life,
a place where normal people have no idea of the turmoil that
goes inside this place. Sadness, despair,loneliness, severe emotional
trauma. The kind of trauma that makes you wonder when will it
be my time and knowing it's only a matter of time until you're in
the same deathlike as the person next to you. There is no cure,
there is no hope, we just need to try to cope. Everyday is a battle
wondering why this happened to me, I live because a machine keeps
me alive. Hooked to a machine is no way to live, even if it's only 3
times a week you may say. I dare you you to sit in my place for just
one of those days. New patients make me sad, I see in their eyes
confusion and fear. I want to tell them don't worry it will be alright
but it won't be they will have many sleepless nights. They try to act
strong and did I, but you know they to wonder why? why them?
why me? What did I do to deserve such a fate. And you wonder
why I am always late to this place where people are saved by a
machine, would you be in a rush to be flushed? I think not. Oh did
I mention I might clot? this place allows me to urinate through my
blood, it takes out the bad, to bad it can't take out the sad. Am I
bitter am I mad more than you could ever understand. You can try
to understand but just pray you are never forced to understand.
I will have no choice but to come to this place until the day they roll
me out in a crate. That is the day my suffering ends once and for all.
Will I miss this place? not at all.

Bill "Epoman" Halcomb 

A Poem: The New Symbol of Love
When someone says they’ll give you their heart
As a token of love from which they can part

We take it as only a figure of speech
A turn of phrase, or an over sized peach

You may rest assured their affections are strong
But without a heart they wont live very long

And unless you’re a time lord, which I highly doubt
Two hearts leaves you one you can do without

So I put it to you, ladies and gents
If your love is undying and will not relent

Offer an organ you can actually spare
One that works hard, but is somewhat less rare

An organ whose measure is greater than wealth
And when shared can invigorate health

For true love, if we may call it that
Gives of itself and expects nothing back

Such a love may be given, but also rejected
For love is like antibodies and very selective

So if love is something you want to give free
Select as your symbol of love the kidney

STORIES:

Joys Story

In May, 1998, when I was only 10, I woke up one morning to find my eyes swollen nearly shut.  This is how I first found out I had nephrotic syndrome.  From that day on, I endured numerous medical tests and treatments to try to save my kidneys, ranging from chemotherapy to palse steroids that had terrible side effects.

My kidney disease is nephrotic syndrome C1-Q nephropathy.  It has no known cause, and I have no family history of it.  The chemotherapy (cytoxan) I received was to destroy the deposits that had formed in the glomeruli (filtering bundles) in my kidneys.  These deposits were causing inflammation and destroying the glomeruli.  I took cytoxan for about six months. Prednisone was the steroid I received, which is the standard treatment given to those with my disease.  I guess it kept me off dialysis for years, but not without bad side effects, such as weight gain, nausea, and extreme lethargy.

In 2004, when I was 16, I had to go on peritoneal dialysis (PD).  I felt terrible on PD and was homebound for school.  I was on a PD machine called a cycler that ran all night.  Mine took close to 11 hours each night.  Before the cycler, I did the PD treatments (exchanges) by hand, but that required 3 to 4 exchanges each day, which prevented me from leaving the house for work or school.

My disease was getting progressively worse, and I felt miserable, even after treatments.  I woke up as tired as when I went to bed.  After 8 months on dialysis, on June 7, 2005, I finally got a call from IU Hospital that a deceased-donor kidney was available.  It was transplanted the next day.

Currently, I am enjoying life with my new kidney.  I keep myself busy belly dancing, doing beauty pageants, and working for the School on Wheels, a not-for-profit in Indianapolis. My near decade-long journey has inspired me to do as much as I can to help others that are like me.  I volunteer often for the National Kidney Foundation of Indiana.