Our Interesting Week

Photos: Rick & clouds from ferry dock Wednesday afternoon; Blake Island and rain squall, also Wednesday afternoon. Photos by Mary
One thing we have learned about the people at the Kidney Center – people who work with people in renal failure – is that they are ruthlessly honest, direct, and decisive about maintaining and improving the health of their patients. This is a good thing, and can be a little breathtaking.
Rick had to go back to hemodialysis a week ago, because his PD catheter was not draining right. He was scheduled for hemo again on Monday; surgery to repair his catheter on Tuesday; and hemo again on Wednesday and Friday. Next week the modified (replaced? Reset? I really am not sure what was done) catheter will be flushed, and soon (we have not been told when) he will be training again to use the overnight dialysis machine. We think that because a truck delivered enough supplies for the overnight machine to fill one-third of our living room. We consider this a sign that overnight dialysis is a-comin'.
So that was Rick's week, and those are the expectations for him. He is still recovering from the surgery – I don't care how small the incision or sharp the instruments, getting a hole cut in your abdomen is an insult the body does not take lightly.
Now, Rick has been saying since last October that he has had to get used to this medical stuff being all about him. He has said frequently, “It really is all about me,” kind of like someone in therapy repeating an affirmation they don't quite believe. What it means is that he understands that his life depends on his being taken care of, and his doing the right things, and his accepting the attentions and procedures that are all aimed at keeping him alive and as healthy as possible for, as he says, a walking dead person.
And that has been what we've worked for all these months.
I have been in charge of the paperwork, and filling out applications, and finding and copying and printing out documentation for these applications. As a result he is going on Medicare as of May 1, and will also be enrolled in a Kidney Disease Program. Also as a result I will have no medical insurance as of May 1.
Knowing that my insurance was ending, I made appointments for various exams and tests. The colonoscopy went beautifully. According to the doctor, my colon is in great shape. This was good news. Then I had a mammogram.
Not so good news. There was something that needed to have an ultrasound. OK, let's get it done before the insurance expires. So I had that done Tuesday morning, coincidentally the day Rick was scheduled to have his catheter surgery. Well, what the heck, we were going to be at Swedish all day anyway.
So I had my ultrasound in the morning, and saw this little black rock in my breast, and was told I needed to have a needle biopsy on it. OK. When? I have three more days of insurance. Well, how about this afternoon? OK.
So I dropped Rick off at surgery intake, walked over to the Breast Center, and had a biopsy, which I watched on the computer screen, and it was fascinating. At the end a little metal clip was fastened to the lump so it would be easily identified in later mammograms.
Then I walked back to the family surgery waiting area and had the usual nap I take while Rick is having surgery. When he was awake, they called me, and I went to the recovery area, which has become all too familiar to us the last six months, and after a couple of hours he was considered awake enough and full enough of painkillers to be released, and I took him home.
I've been telling people that I cannot recommend having surgery on the same day as a first date. No, this is the province of people who have been married for 30 years. Go back and read your wedding vows, and you will realize that they were written with days like this in mind.
So the two of us have been recovering from our various procedures the last couple of days – make no mistake, his was much more serious than mine, but I am still sore and feeling the effects of my little procedure.
Today I got the phone call on the results of the biopsy: not cancer. Yay!
But.
But? Whaddaya mean “but?”
But there are atypical cells, and the lump has to be excised and examined to make sure there is no cancer, or if there is, to treat it. Cancer is unlikely, but they want to make sure.
So I called the breast surgery center and made an appointment to meet with a surgeon next week. When I mentioned that I am losing my medical insurance, the nice lady who made the appointment mentioned charity, and said a Swedish social worker would call me by Monday.
To my friends and family I have not told about this situation, I apologize if you are reading it here for the first time. We've been busy here, and I've been treating the whole breast situation as background noise to doing what we have to do to maintain Rick's health.
The little black rock with the clamp in it will be removed, and we'll find out if there is cancer or not. Chances are good that it is not cancer, but if it is, then finding it and treating it is a good thing. This is one of the things I've learned from hearing “cancer” as a diagnosis twice with Rick. It's stunning, but finding it and treating it is the best thing you can do.
So in this I have to realize that “it's all about me.” Kind of like a therapy patient repeating an affirmation she doesn't quite believe.
I foresee more paperwork. Sigh.
I am grateful: to Swedish, to good doctors and nurses, to friends and family who have loved and supported us all the way, to God, and to the constant reminders of what is real, and true. I hope to have good news in a couple of weeks. Good news, and another incision to recover from. It's good to be alive.