this blog

The ramblings and observations of a kidney transplant recipient, although not necessarily for that reason.

probably smarter than me
book i'm reading
A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole (recommended by Killer)
Blog Of The Day Awards Winner
Dear final bidder,
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
The reason you didn't get to go on stage with Bob Barker when they "called you down" on the Price Is Right is because you are too stupid to figure out how to bid $1 over the lowest bidder in your price range. When you bid on the sofa and the first three bids were $1100, $1, and $700.......$985 was a terrible bid. I'm only writing, because when Bob revealed the price of $850, and the hyper frat boy from UC Irvine got to go on stage and win the car, and you didn't, you looked surprised.

Your friend,
The Collective Voice of 2nd Grade Math Teachers Across America (TCVO2GMTAA)*

*This was actually written by a person forced to stay home during recovery from a surgery and watch daytime TV for the first time in 18 years, which is the last time I actually watched the Price Is Right. I'm sure there are entire blogs devoted to this topic, but I felt the need to get this off my chest as I've seen it happen moron after moron for the past 13 weekdays in a row. I hereby declare to not watch the Price Is Right again for another 18 years (unless its on again tomorrow).
posted by othur-me @ 8:47 PM   0 comments
Some quick thoughts on the American Idol finale....
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
If they removed the "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" portion by Bucky, the entire Burt Bacharach set would have been awesome.

All of the "Idols" got a lesson in stage presence from the celebrity guests. Especially Elliot. When Mary J grabbed his hand and started shakin' it for him. He looked befuddled. She was all...."GET A CLUE ELLIOT, IF YOU'D JUST MOVE A LITTLE YOU MIGHT'VE WON THIS THING!"

Prince! Showin' 'em all how its done.

Paris sucked hard.

Kat was overplayed.

Taylor deserved to win, but that's not saying much. Ask yourself if you would ever buy a ticket to see him in concert. Or any of 'em.
posted by othur-me @ 11:07 PM   2 comments
Drug Regiment
For anyone intersted in what drugs have to be taken by a transplant recipient, this is what I take, starting the day after the surgery:

Study Drug (Immunosuppressant) - 100 mg twice a day
Predisone (Steroid) - tapered dosage starting at 100 mg the first day and down to 5 mg by day 42
Cellcept (Immunosuppressant) - 1000 mg twice a day
Bactrim (Prevents Bacterial Pneumonia) - 1 pill a day
Valcyte (Prevents Viral Infections) - 450 mg every M-W-F, once those days
Nystatin Mouthwash (Prevents Mouth/Throat Fungus) - 5 cc in 10 cc of water, three times daily
Iron Supplement - 325 mg, three times a day
Vitamin C - 500 mg, three times a day
Multivitamin - 1 pill a day
Aspirin - 81 mg, once a day
Metoprolol (Blood Pressure) - 100 mg, twice a day
Minoxodil (Blood Pressure) - 10 mg, twice a day
Pepcid - twice a day
Docusate (stool softener) - twice a day
Lovonox (blood thinner) - 1 injection a day

On MWF when I take more pills than other days (on other days subtract one pill from 8 am), it amounts to:
14 pills at 8 am
14 pills at 11 am
4 pills at 2 pm
6 pills at 6 pm
14 pills at 11 pm
Give myself one injection in the stomach each morning
Rinse, gargle, and swallow mouthwash 3 times a day

UPDATE: On Monday May 15, the doctors added 40 mg of furosemide (water pill) once a day to help with getting rid of some water my body was holding onto. They also increase my study drug to 120 mg.

15 pills at 8 am
16 pills at 11 am
4 pills at 2 pm
6 pills at 6 pm
16 pills at 11 pm
Give myself one injection in the stomach each morning
Rinse, gargle, and swallow mouthwash 3 times a day

UPDATE: On Thursday May 18, they removed the pepsid and docusate because I wasn't having any problems with heartburn or constipation which ususally occur immediately after tranplant surgery. They also cut my minoxodil in half because my blood pressure numbers were "ok". They also increased my study drug to 150 mg.

11.5 pills at 8 am
19 pills at 11 am
4 pills at 2 pm
3.5 pills at 6 pm
19 pills at 11 pm
Give myself one injection in the stomach each morning
Rinse, gargle, and swallow mouthwash 3 times a day

UPDATE: On Friday May 19, done with lovonox injections.

11.5 pills at 8 am
19 pills at 11 am
4 pills at 2 pm
3.5 pills at 6 pm
19 pills at 11 pm
Rinse, gargle, and swallow mouthwash 3 times a day

UPDATE: On Monday May 22, they reduced my study drug to 140 mg twice daily.

11.5 pills at 8 am
18 pills at 11 am
4 pills at 2 pm
3.5 pills at 6 pm
18 pills at 11 pm
Rinse, gargle, and swallow mouthwash 3 times a day

The whole point is to remove as many drugs as possible. The eventual goal is to get down to only the immunsuppressants (you have to take those for life) and most likely I will have to keep some form of blood pressure medication, but my doctors want to get me off minoxodil because they say its not a good drug to take long term.
posted by othur-me @ 10:08 AM   1 comments
Monday, May 22, 2006
G2S Still Rocks....and so does Sue: Amendment to this post. I'm sure that somewhere out there is a nurse named Mary that works in a Post-Op Care Unit somewhere, but not at Stanford Hospital. In my drug induced, surgery prompted haze, I seemed to have mis-remembered my nurses first name. I SWEAR IT WAS MARY! It wasn't, it was Sue. Thanks Sue!

Back in GS2, Oseas grew tired of feeding me ice chips and went home. Denise was my next nurse. She was really nice as well (the entire staff at Stanford Hospital was seemingly more super than most hospitals, all my friends agreed). She often spoke to me about myself in the 3rd person rather than the second and used "it" as the pronoun to describe me. "If it doesn't take its pills, it won't get any lunch", mostly making to reference to all the tubes and wires coming out of me, like I were Frankenstein's monster. She explained to it that in order to graduate to water from ice chips, she needed to make sure its digestive tract is back in action. Meaning, if it heard rumbling in its might be able to have water. Even better, if it passed definately got water.

Now, I have set myself some lofty goals in my life: losing vast amounts of weight, amassing very large sums of money, teaching my dog to fetch me very cute girls in the park (none of which have ever been achieved successfully). I now have a new task at hand, one I'm sure I can do. I mean, I 've done it before many times. Hardly worth calling a "milestone" in my recovery. I prefer to think it as an inch-pebble. My goal all morning fart. Yup....I said...I did it...I had to actually tell someone about it....but.....job done, water drank.

It seems that is pretty much what recovery from major abdominal surgery is all about. Little tiny farting. Other inch-pebbles, there were many and there were rewards for each. If I could have a bowel movement, I got to eat solid food. Should I get up, walk all around the unit....I get the catheter out. When I can manage to stop using the self-induced pain control, I get to take the little things taped to my finger off. All of these rewards usually include disconnecting a tube or wire from me, making me feel less constriced. Basically when you get down to zero tubes and wires, you get to go home. Now it was just a matter of figuring out which reward I wanted most and making them happen.

The thing that mattered most to me was the catheter. I asked every nurse and every doctor that came into my room when I get the catheter out. Denise was the first to tell me, "Ya shouldn't hurt. If it does something's wrong." hurt and apparently something was wrong. Denise managed to make a very minor adjustment and make the pain go away completely. This made the catheter tolerable, but.....still less than enjoyable. It still thanked her hugely.

I spent the week trying to achieve these little, tiny feats, each one of them a HUGE struggle. But I did it. I farted. I pooped. I got up, walked around. I got my tubes and wires removed one by one, and I got myself out of there by Friday. Two days earlier than all best case scenario predictions. The fastest quote I had been given was to get out the Sunday after the surgery (which took place Monday). The doctors were all happy with my recovery, the nurses were all happy with my recovery, and I was anxious to get home. I was happy to go home Friday afternoon. Having to sit in the passenger seat with my father driving us home is a whole other story.....not happy.....not happy at all.
posted by othur-me @ 10:10 PM   1 comments
Tonight I Went Out For The First Time
Saturday, May 20, 2006
I decided to try and venture out of the house for the evening for the first time since my surgery. There was a poker tournament at a friend of a friend's house. I don't like to miss this tournament because the competition is ususally pathetic. It was the usual round of pathetic players, but I was pullilng shitty cards all night and ended up short stacked and losing to a guy who beat my top pair with his kicker. I actually didn't mind because the drugs were getting me a little weary and I was tired of thinking about cards, especially against a group of people make it not matter what you think. I also got tired of watching people try to figure out how to count out their $125 bet with 4 different color chips. 1 green, 2 rd, 3 blue and no wait....2 blue 4 red and the game last forever. I was happy to see my friends.

I did make the mistake, however, of trying to run across the street to avoid traffic....and it turns out I'm not ready to run yet. My stomach made sure I knew that when I got to the other side. For those of you who need to turns out it really hurts to run 12 days after a kidney transplant. You think I would have known that. I'm sure they told me at the hospital.
posted by othur-me @ 10:52 PM   2 comments
Completely Out of Context TV Quote #1
Who: The Barefoot Contessa
Show: The Barefoot Contessa
Episode: Lunch For The Boys
Channel: The Food Network
Date & Time: 5/20/06, 9:40 am PST

Quote: "I'm so looking forward to seeing Dick in the windmill."

Observation: Is this some new sexual maneuver I've not yet discovered?
posted by othur-me @ 9:42 AM   0 comments
G2S Rocks!
Friday, May 19, 2006
My new home after recovery was Unit GS2. As they wheeled my gurney past the waiting room full of my parents and friends and into room 201, Mary began her goodbyes. "They'll take good care of you here Jerry." I knew they would, but I would miss Mary. My throat dry and sore from the breathing tube shoved down my throat during surgery, I squeeked out the best thank you and good bye I could muster.

Oseas (oh-say-us) had already started getting things ready for me. I arrived at 10:30 pm and he would be my nurse until shift change at 7:30am. I was quite comfortable for someone who just had a major abdominal surgery, especially after Oseas explained the PCA button to me. A wonderful little single-button, wired remote control that delivered pain medication to my IV everytime I pushed it. It wass on a ten minute timer so I couldn't go crazy. Yet another wire dangling from my bed to go with the medical spaghetti described here*.

Oseas told me if I needed anything he would be there. And he was. All night long he sat in my room and made sure I was completely cared for. He was awesome. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything because your intestinal tract basically falls asllep when you're under general anesthetic and until it wakes up you're stomach is likely to push back what it can't push forward. At this point all I wanted was something to drink because my throat was so completely dry and irritated. It was the 2nd worse pain I had, only to the pain of the catheter which was bothering me in the worst way (and in the worst place).

When the doctor (surgeon's assistant #12 or intern #22, I can't fully remember) came in to check on me, he denied me the priveledge of a glass of water, despite my pleas. Osaes, obviously well versed in the art of doctor manipulation, lobbied on my behalf for a glass of ice chips, aware that I didn't know to ask for them myself. He instantly went down in my book as "one awesome guy" as those ice chips were sent from heaven and I requested them all night long. Poor Oseas was doomed to spoon feed me little shards of ice every hour on the hour, because I didn't sleep well. Not because I was in pain or anything. I just wasn't that tired. The doctors said it was common the first night, because you have basically been sleeping all day thought the surgery.

In the morning, Osaes informed me that the doctors had put in an order to move me to Unti E3 (the transplant unit), but it was full. So, for the mean time, I would stay here in GS2. Whew! I like it here. And then my very cute nurse Denise came on shift and I liked it even more.

I hope I get to stay here. I really hope I get to stay here.

*When you add to this scene the wired TV remote and my CPAP (which is a mask that goes over my face when I sleep and forces air up my nose to treat my sleep apnea), I'm sure I was a vision in life support. Anyone stranger that may have meandered into the wrong room would have truly thought they were witnessing a coma awakening when I sat up, ripped off my CPAP and asked "Who are you?" A MIRACLE!
posted by othur-me @ 11:47 PM   0 comments
The day before the surgery...
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
...although I was not yet on any drugs, was very surreal. I remember most of it, but I really just checked out of my brain for awhile. I didn't want to think about anything, because anything would turn into transplant. So, I just sort of wandered through the day happy as could be, not letting a thing get to me.

The day started with breakfast with my parents and my best friend Mike. Christoper, the nurse coordinator who met with me a week before, told me to have a big breakfast because once I checked into the hospital I would be on a clear liquid diet. I would later find out that this would save me from a "bowel preparation." Now, I have no idea what exactly happens at a bowel preparation, but I'm almost completely positive its nothing fun.

I rode with Mike to the hospital and my parents drove separately. Just as we were walking up to the admitting desk, Matt walked up by himself, no parents, family, friends. Just him and his backpack walking in like its just another trip to the library or something. He had informed us that his father dropped him off and then went to watch Stanford play Cal at the Sunken Diamond baseball field (at Stanford). It all seemed very casual.

Then we checked in and made our way to unit ATU? ACU? A-something-U. Ambulatory Care-something-or other. When we got there we both asked for non-smoking rooms. The nurses informed us there was some mistake and we can't stay there tonight because they close at 7pm on Sundays and all the nurses go home. Don't you think someone at admitting would know this? Anyway....they sent us back to admitting and we waited there for awhile until they found a place to put us. Apparently the transplant unit (E3) was full. We ended up at F3...dear old F3.

The nurse at F3 took me into my room where a man in a hospital gown was being attended to by some other nurse. He didn't look all that happy to have a new roommate. I'm absolutely sure I returned the vibe. The only thing I remember about him is that he complained alot and needed vast amounts of attending to. Easy for me to say before my surgery, but I'm sure I complained at least half as much as him after my surgery as well. My nurse, whose name I need to leave out of this completely, began her check in routine.

She did her nice-to-meet-yous and isn't-it-a-great-thing-what-your-friend-is-doing-for-yous and then began filling out her paperwork which involved asking me questions. Name, DOB, Allergies, know...that stuff...and then something weird happened....obviousy deviating from her questionnaire, she asked "So are you getting 2 kidneys or 1?"

NO!! Did she just ask me that? Is she joking? Look in her's not joking. "One," I said. Did I just answer that question to a nurse who will be taking care of me? Can I still opt out of this? I mean....its a good question.....for a third grader. And, bless her heart, she was just generally showing an interest in my problem, but c'mon....where's the camera? Who's fucking with me? This would be the most memorable moment of my week in the hospital. I would later tell other nurses about it, who would try to convince me she was joking. She wasn't. She went on with her questions and stuck to the paperwork from there on.

Then blood draw. EKG. Chest X-ray. The lunch tray was on my roll-away counter top when I got back. A bowl of chicken broth. A juicy cup of grape juice. A dish of yellow jello (yellow is the worst one). And a frozen lemon icee thing. Then a round of people, endless people, came by to introduce themselves. Interns, fellows, med-students, nurses, coordinators, surgeons....none of them my actual surgeon. I shook alot of hands and heard alot of names that night, I remember none of them. I had checked out earlier in the day. I watched TV. My parents and friends (Mike & Louisa) sat in the waiting room not knowing whether to come in my room or not. Eventually my parents went home and said they would see me in the morning. Mike & Louisa came into my room and hung out for awhile, well past visiting hours, and left only at the point when the nurse (a different one after shift change) came in and explained I had to take a shower, change into my gown, and she had to put an IV in my arm so they could start pumping me full of fluids. new nurse (cute as hell with her Lisa Loeb glasses and eastern Euro accent), struggled putting the IV in. You see....I'm a phlebotomist's nightmare. I'm well known in Phlebotomy Journal and Blood Draw Magazine as "the toughest stick in the lab." None of my veins pop and thanks to blood pressure medications I've been taking for the last 5 years there is a fresh coat of hair on my arms that help to camouflage all the veins and arteries buried deep within. So, Audry spends a few minutes trying her best to find a vein, wipes my arm with some alcohol, and sticks it in.....STRIKE ONE! She missed....and I'm okay with it. Needles don't really bother me that much and most trips to the lab for me end in multiple sticks. I was willing to have her pull it out and try again, but she decided to save me the pain of another stick started wiggling (a technique I've seen used by many blood drawers). You can see the look of desperation on their faces when they realize they've missed and think they're close enough to wiggle it in, but it always ends in 9 or 10 seconds of useless needle wiggling and to be honest its hurts way more than another stick. Audrey decided she wouldn't let my left arm beat her. She wiggled for about 3 full minutes. "Sorry" and "I hope it doesn't hurt"....she was embarrassed and feeling my pain with me. FINALLY....she gives up....tries the right arm, gets it on the first stick, and puts a bandage over my left arm (my still badly bruised left arm). Can I go to sleep now?

No. Now that I'm settled, in walks the surgeon. THE surgeon. Dr. Stephan Busque. Regarded by most people in the hospital and by all his previous patients as a genius* (and a hell of a nice guy with an endearing little French-Canadian accent). Dr. Busque came in, checked me out with some very basic stethescoping, told me the surgery would be a little later than I originally thought, and told me I was being invited to take part in a drug study. I could have the option of taking a new immunosuppressant drug (not yet FDA approved) that was a modified version of another drug they are using now. They rearranged one of the molecules and were able to make the drug 10x stronger. Meaning they could give you 10x less of it and therefore reduce some of the unwanted side effects by 10x, including the nephrotoxicity of the drug. Meaning, if it worked, I may never need another transplant (most kidney transplants only last about 10 years because the immunosuppresants are nephrotoxic). He, while trying to sound impartial, was obviously very excited about it. I had tons of questions and he had tons of answers and now I would have until morning to think it through. Now I had to check back in. I have something serious to consider. Dr. Busque assured me everything would go well with the surgery and I believed him. I lay awake for only a few minutes considering my drug options. I already knew the answer.

*Dr. Busque apparently uses innovative techniques that other surgeons don't use to minimize post-op pain for the patients. Matt and I both regard him as amazing and will gladly give testimonty to the success of these techniques. Also, he really is a hell of nice guy.
posted by othur-me @ 11:38 PM   2 comments
Jerry! Wake up! It's over.....
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
what? where am I? what's that pain? oh that's what a catheter feels like. I feel great....but, ouch...where's my pain killers? Damn my throat hurts! What are all these things hanging off of or going into me?

First stop....recovery room. IV in my neck. IV in my arm. Bandage on my wrist from where a third IV was. Blood pressure cuff on my left arm automatically taking my blood pressure every half hour. Both my legs wrapped from toe to crotch in some sort of pad that fills up with air and then deflates at random intervals every 5 to 10 seconds, apparently something to keep the blood flow going through your legs. A tube across my face blowing oxygen up my nostrils. This thing taped to the end of my middle finger that measures the oxygen saturation in my blood, and makes the end of your finger light up red like ET's. Oh cool....there's another one on my other hand....I can actually touch them together and recreate the "ouch" scene all by myself. And the best part....a 1/2 inch tube coming out from my underparts running to some sort of urine-o-meter to measure the output of urine from my brand new kidney.

My nurse Mary interrupted her endless amounts of tasks to stop and tell me that Matt (my donor) just left recovery and that he was doing great. She was his nurse and she will be mine. Matt had apparently found out that she was a big Giants fan and told her about my front row tickets at AT&T Park. Apparently I was alert enough to have this conversation with her, although I would later forget about 98% of it. I figure I must have spent about 4 or 5 hours in recovery, although I don't know for sure. I'm mostly guessing from how long my surgery was supposed to be and at what time I ended up in my unit following recovery. I know almost nothing about Mary, but I remember how much I loved her. Maybe because she was a big Giants fan, or maybe because she was the source of my pain killers....but I just remember Mary was awesome.

The anestesiologist (sp?) had told me before the surgery that because of my sleep apnea they wouldn't be able to put me as far under as most people, and that it would probably mean that I would wake up in more pain than most people (um, thanks doc, great news!). I really did feel the pain right away, but more than anything I felt....good. I don't remember feeling this good. I lived with failing kidneys for so long, I didn't realize how much of my feeling down was attributed to it. It just felt like me to be low all the time and now I felt GOOD (10" gash and catheter pain excluded).

It felt like I was awake the entire time in the recovery room (although I'm sure I slept through most of it). I remember pain, then Mary, then no pain, then feeling good, then.....OK...bye Mary, thanks.... and off I went to my home for the next three and a half days......Unit G2S.....hey, there's my parents....Hi MOM! (Bear with me, the connection of these memories won't transition well for awhile). Hi DAD!
posted by othur-me @ 11:34 PM   0 comments
T Minus Zero More Blogs
Sunday, May 07, 2006
This will be my last writing until after I get a new kidney. In less than 36 hours my surgery should be complete and I will be laying in a hospital bed doped up and peeing normally again (as long as you consider through a catheter and from someone else's kidney normal).

Tonight I went out to dinner in what seemed like the grand finale of love fests I've been experiencing over the last couple weeks. My best friend drove in from Reno and I went out to dinner with him, his parents and my parents, all of whom have been friends for about 23 years, but don't see each other enough lately. It was the best one (dinner with a friend to celebrate my new kidney) so far. Mike made the drive from Reno, NV to Foster City, CA in 3 hours and 10 minutes (a very fast time) and arrived late for dinner.

Mike says he's getting divorced. It's not the first time he's said it, but it is the most convincing time. Maybe some time away from his wife (here to help me through my surgery) will change things. We'll see.

"Are you getting scared yet?" seems to be the question of the day. The truth is, I'm not afraid to have surgery or get a new kidney. I'm most afraid to give up control of my life (even for a shor time). I don't want other people doing things for me. I want to do things for myself. It's actually a huge source of tension for me. About 10 years ago, I had what I believed to be a nervous breakdown and it all stemmed from not being in control. I will try to glide through this without caring too much, but I don't think I'll get past it until there are some very good drugs in my system. Bring 'em on. If anyone who knew me was actually reading this, they would probably think that last sentence sounded funny. I don't do drugs....I don't even drink anymore. To hear me say "bring on the drugs" would probably make a lot of people laugh. But......bring em on.

Since I don't want the last words of my last blog before the surgery to read "bring on the drugs" I will type one more paragraph. Good luck, Jerry and Matt. Get healthy, be healthy, stay healthy. Thank you, Matt, I will never be able to re-pay you, and I will never stop trying. I love you Mom, Dad, Shari and Mike, Morgan and Scotty, Mike, Chrissy, Chance, Kai, Louisa, Jim, Elaine and John, Steve and Dawn, all of my friends and family. (Now, bring on the good drugs).
posted by othur-me @ 2:26 AM   4 comments
Waaaah Waaaah Waaah!
Friday, May 05, 2006
I find myself thinking (and writing) too much about the things I will miss. I have to get over this funk. This feeling that my life is terrible because my kidneys failed. I have tons to be thankful for, but don't have much time devoted to that feeling lately. It's all spent feeling sorry or scared. The truth is I have it better than most. I've never really been "sick" until now, and even at that I'm still managing. I've never been on dialysis and I've heard enough horror stories to know its a terrible thing. I don't know....I think it's because I'm not religious, that I don't have that "thanks for the things I've got" spirit.

Things I will be grateful for:

1) Not being sick.
2) A new working kidney
3) Having a great friend that would give me a kidney
4) Family still around
5) Friends still around
6) Career
7) Having this phase of my life over, and a chance to get over this road bump and go on.
8) My dog

I will probably complain a bunch more, espeically when I'm all hopped up meds. But I wanted to have this post to read back later. Hopefully it will provide me with balance.
posted by othur-me @ 3:21 PM   0 comments
I'll have an unagi hand roll, hold the eel!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
One of the things I'll miss, at least for awhile, after the surgery is sushi. As an Immuno-suppressed Person (ISP), I'm not supposed to eat raw meats. Bacteria and all that. Being the sushi lover that I am, this will be tough. Seemingly feeling my pain, my in-patient coordinator said it might be ok on rare occasions once I get my drugs stabilized. I hope by rare occasions he means once a week.

Tonight I went to the sushi bar for dinner with my father, trying to take advantage of the few meals I have left with no restrictions. My father is funny. When I was sixteen, any talk of sushi with my father would end up with him saying "YUCK RAW FISH NO WAY NOT ME" or some combination of those 7 words, but he liked cooked Japanese food....he could eat teriyaki anything and absolutely loved tempura, so he was constantly exposed to watching me eat sushi in front of him. The last twenty years or so, I've been able to slowly talk him into sushi, the same way most sushi-resisters start.....california roll, ebi nigiri, cucumber rolls, avocado rolls. As long as there was no raw fish, he would try it. I even tried to get him to eat eel before raw fish because the eel is cooked, but he said there was no way in hell he would ever eat eel. The next thing you know, he's picking up pieces of my salmon and tuna, and off he goes into the world of raw fish. One of my favorite things about eating sushi with my father, is that he never knows what's in the rolls, he just picks them up and eats them. I love seeing the look on his face when I tell him he just ate one with eel (even though he didn't...I never actually let him get that far with the eel, cause I know he will be mad). Its priceless to watch him reach for his napkin to spit out whatever it was he just swallowed even though there was no eel in it. Funny, it tasted fine when he didn't know, but as soon as he thinks it, it's the worst piece of sushi he's ever eaten. He then spends the next ten minutes asking me if there really wasn't any eel in that last piece he ate.

I will miss torturing my father with sushi as an ISP.
posted by othur-me @ 11:19 PM   0 comments
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
I am supremely tired today. I'm really feeling the effects of having failing kidneys. I'm tired all the time. I slept regular hours last night, slept in a little, and then continued to sleep in some more. I arrived late to work, only to doze off about a dozen times at my desk today. It must be funny for other people around the office to walk in on me sleeping upright at my desk.

Because I am running out of work, I spent much of today watching a movie on my computer at work today. I watched "Ordinary People". It was the first time I've seen it. Donald Sutherland was great, but I hate Mary Tyler Moore. Also, I don't think Timothy Hutton was a very good actor. At the very least, this wasn't his best role, but he was young.

Tonight I have to take my work computer over to my parents' house and see if I can plug it into their TV, set up the wireless keyboard and mouse, and plug in the new printer, so I can work from my recovery bed. I want to do it as quick as possble, though. I can't remember the last evening I've actually been at home. I could use some rest (rest, not sleep). I hope it works on the first try.
posted by othur-me @ 4:42 PM   0 comments
Last Normal Day
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
I think this will be the last day that feels normal before my surgery.

I worked today. While I'm officially working the rest of the week, it will be all wrapping up loose ends. No new work. No new problems to take on. Just sit around and wait for work to end mostly.

I paid my bills today. For the next month or two other people will be paying my bills. I've given one of my friends a bunch of cash and redirected my bills to her house. Hopefuly she will actually pay my bills and not go shopping with the money. Either way, I'm won't be that concerned about it. I will be loaded up on immunosuppressants and pain killers for awhile. I won't be that concerned with anything.

Tonight I have band practice (last time for awhile). My band is trying out a new drummer even thought I won't be there after tonight. Luckily we don't have any gigs coming up until June, but even when that happens, other people in the band will have to help me. I'm not supposed lift more than ten pounds for 3 months. I'm not sure they'll even let me play my bass by the time the June gig comes around. I think I will tell people I'm not allowed to carry more than ten pounds for 3 YEARS.

I'll go home and watch TV after that. The rest of my week will feel like a very slow gurney ride into the OR.
posted by othur-me @ 5:04 PM   2 comments
Another strange thing for me to think about.... exactly one week, someone else's kidney will be cleaning my blood.

Who's urine will be coming out of me?
posted by othur-me @ 1:23 AM   0 comments
Time Keeps on Slipping
I have so many things to get done, Its so hard to actually spend time writing. I have loads of thoughts in my head throughtout the day for which I would love to write about and then I don't find the time to actually write it, which is a shame, because I really would like to have this blog to read back after I've been through everything.

I think most people who develop fairly serious illnesses probably feel alone and isolated....and while I've definately felt my share of that over the last few years, as I draw closer to the surgery relationships with other people are becoming warm and fuzzy. Everyone is nice to me....nicer than usual. And I reciprocate in kind....which is nicer than usual. I'm sure that on a regular basis, I see my parents more than most people, and feels this week in particular our time together is so much...almost too much considering how often I will see of them after the surgery, as my recovery will take place in their house.

Friends who have been through it, are giving me lots of advice, almost too much to handle. More than just the usual, be healthy, drink lots of water, don't smoke, take your medicine. I mean little tiny details, like make sure you bring a back scratcher and order your hospital food off the kids menu. Great advice, which I'm sure will be invaluable, but way beyond my thought processes at this moment.

Yeah, warm and fuzzy right now, but still confused. What do I do next and why am I sitting at this stupid computer?
posted by othur-me @ 12:20 AM   0 comments
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Name: othur-me
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