07/11/08 - 3 weeks post tx - fireworks, ripped jeans and visiting dialysis

Bonfire night was the first time I properly ventured out socially, and not only was this a novelty due to the fact I had been cooped up in hospital or in the house for the past few weeks it was also a 'dialysis' night - in the past Friday nights were always taken up by my lengthy meetings with my blood sucking friend but now I could do whatever I liked with them.

A few friends and I headed down to the river armed with my camera, a big bag of Haribo and some sparklers. A lot of fun was had taking pictures and admiring the fireworks as they reflected on the river. It felt amazing to be out doing 'normal' things and not to feel exhausted or achy. Bonfire night was also the first time I dared put on normal clothes...after putting on my nice black skinny jeans and subsequently ripping them about five minutes later I decided it was probably best to stick to tracksuit bottoms for the near future...transplant tummy is stubbon and isn't going to budge as easy as I thought.

sparkly magic

A few days later I headed down to the hospital to visit everyone at dialysis loaden with some home made rocky road and cards for all the nurses. Strangely I was a little nervous about visiting the place that had become my home from home in the past two years. I hadn't seen or spoken to any of the dialysis nurses since my transplant and I wanted to tell them how fab I felt but I didn't exactly want to waltz in and start shouting about my transplant when the room was filled with other patients who were in my situation a couple of months ago... some who had been waiting a lot longer than me.

As soon as I walked in to the unit, I felt strange - a bit like a spare part I guess. Usually I would wonder in and waste no time in choosing 1 sheet, 3 pillow cases, and a blanket (non bobbly) assembling them on the chair in the way I had perfected over time and then quickly start to get my machine ready.

I chatted with a few of the nurses and gave them my gifts, and then went and spoke to my dialysis buddy Ally. Ally has been waiting for a kidney for longer than I had, and due to her being Asian statistics show that she is unfortunately likely to wait even longer as there is a lack of black/Asian people on the organ donor list. I chatted to her a little bit about my transplant, but I soon picked up on the fact that she found it painful to talk about - and I don't blame her. Being on dialysis for seven years aged 28 is no joke. I can totally see why she finds it hard talk about it. I arranged to meet her outside the hospital instead in the week for more girly chats. But it wasn't until I left the hospital that night that I realised why I felt so strange. I was no longer part of the club anymore - I had moved on into the next level in the kidney failure world, and I was no longer part of dialysis and dialysis was no longer part of me.