Post by knightofhyn on Oct 2, 2008 20:28:05 GMT -5
I'm probably not known to speak often...I don't like to talk much. That and my job schedule...but I digress.
I'm a dialysis patient. For unknown reasons (to medicine, that is) my kidneys failed. Part of it was my own stupidity. I had some warning signs, if I'd listened. I didn't know what it meant, so let that be a lesson to you out there.
The literal diagnosis is something called IGA Nephropothy. Simply put, my immune system decided to eat my kidneys. I used to try to explain it better, but if you say the words "autoimmune disease" in the wonderful metropolis of Lillington, NC, the assumption is that you have AIDS. I started telling people I had lupus. It was a little closer to reality.
Anyway, we have found a match for me. My wife, believe it or not, is a donor match. Good thing cause we've ruled out my entire family. Bad thing in that it's a risk for her. We've gone through most of the tests and such and finally set a date. December 16. Two years and one day to the date of my diagnosis. Three years and 363 days to the date of our wedding. Nine years and one hundred thirteen days since we met (yes, I remember the day and did the math).
I'm a little nervous about the surgery. I know exactly what they are going to do and like any good writer about to work a role in that he had no knowledge of, I did a fair amount of research. Harassed no end of medical people and read everything I could lay hands on.
I bring this to you, my fellow writers, asking that you pray for this. In the end, I don't care what happens to me. I just want her to be safe and taken care of. Oh, and I need to find a friend to finish my writings. I'm supposed to be doing a will and I can't find a "godparent" to my unfinished works and that kinda scares me. I'd hate to see them die stillborn, as it were.
If you'd just take a second to lift this, I'd greatly appreciate it. Sorry I went on so long. This is something that has weighed heavy on my mind since the day after my diagnosis, when Helen said those words that have plagued my nightmares. "What if I'm a match? I'll donate." I know that saying no would rob her of a blessing. I know that it's amazing that God truly did make her for me. I'm just scared. I will be till I wake up in the ICU (not negative, that's where you go in most cases) and hear that she's recovering in the next room or whatever. Just pray that God's will be done and that I'll be accepting of it. That I won't lose faith no matter what may go wrong.
And now we return to our regularly scheduled writing, already in progress...
I'm a dialysis patient. For unknown reasons (to medicine, that is) my kidneys failed. Part of it was my own stupidity. I had some warning signs, if I'd listened. I didn't know what it meant, so let that be a lesson to you out there.
The literal diagnosis is something called IGA Nephropothy. Simply put, my immune system decided to eat my kidneys. I used to try to explain it better, but if you say the words "autoimmune disease" in the wonderful metropolis of Lillington, NC, the assumption is that you have AIDS. I started telling people I had lupus. It was a little closer to reality.
Anyway, we have found a match for me. My wife, believe it or not, is a donor match. Good thing cause we've ruled out my entire family. Bad thing in that it's a risk for her. We've gone through most of the tests and such and finally set a date. December 16. Two years and one day to the date of my diagnosis. Three years and 363 days to the date of our wedding. Nine years and one hundred thirteen days since we met (yes, I remember the day and did the math).
I'm a little nervous about the surgery. I know exactly what they are going to do and like any good writer about to work a role in that he had no knowledge of, I did a fair amount of research. Harassed no end of medical people and read everything I could lay hands on.
I bring this to you, my fellow writers, asking that you pray for this. In the end, I don't care what happens to me. I just want her to be safe and taken care of. Oh, and I need to find a friend to finish my writings. I'm supposed to be doing a will and I can't find a "godparent" to my unfinished works and that kinda scares me. I'd hate to see them die stillborn, as it were.
If you'd just take a second to lift this, I'd greatly appreciate it. Sorry I went on so long. This is something that has weighed heavy on my mind since the day after my diagnosis, when Helen said those words that have plagued my nightmares. "What if I'm a match? I'll donate." I know that saying no would rob her of a blessing. I know that it's amazing that God truly did make her for me. I'm just scared. I will be till I wake up in the ICU (not negative, that's where you go in most cases) and hear that she's recovering in the next room or whatever. Just pray that God's will be done and that I'll be accepting of it. That I won't lose faith no matter what may go wrong.
And now we return to our regularly scheduled writing, already in progress...
