Gerald Slept Here!

[Gerald Lively]

I went to the surgeon who cut up my wrist for the fistula, a follow-up.  He didn’t like it.  Now I must endure an angioplasty which may or may not, work (he said).  Then he started looking at my bicep.  This is not going well.  I crossed my legs just in case he had any other ideas.  He said we would do this on Monday, just which Monday he didn’t know – yet.  Stay tuned.

There is a particular seat in the dialysis center that I will not sit in (I will keep the reason for that to myself).  After having given in to the Dialysis people twice, I refused to go there today.  We had a stand-off for thirty minutes. I said something about the DaVita Center down the road and a seat opened up for me.  I talked with Mr. Bill, the Supervisor there (a good guy), and I got the sense that I was the wild card patient in that I sat in places where the long-term patients were either late or absent.  After six months of this I declared myself a long-term patient.  Mr. Bill will deal with that, he says.  I hate to grumble to those people but it seems to be the only way to get them to treat me as something other than routine.  No, I am not spoiled, I came from the wrong side of the tracks, if that means anything.  It was depression government housing in Richmond, CA.  Next to a refinery – cough, cough.

Once again Dialysis left me dragging.  Today.  This must be my fate.  I get all this ambition to do something, then those guys waste me.  It looks like it’ll be four to five months before I do the home-dialysis thing and gain a degree of control over my quality of life..  I wonder if I am too impatient?  Or a bully as I carve my way through life and the dialysis center.  I probably nag at them. Nag, nag, nag!  I got my training at a Nuns school; don’t ask about Pope’s who had mistresses or it is bruised knuckle time.  Got an “F” in religion once.  Geeeez!  They had no sense of humor.

This isn’t a world shaking post but I find this place a real outlet.  It seems this forum has been around so long that some people have enough posts to write a books.  Most time I have difficulty finding my way around. You know, like trying to find what so and so posted today.  So, I thought I’d try to centralize my posts right here.  That may not sit well with the bosses (there seems to be a dozen or two).  I will give it a try anyway.

gerald

[MooseMom]

Most time I have difficulty finding my way around. You know, like trying to find what so and so posted today.

Here are two tips that may help you navigate...

1.  If you want to see what a particular member has posted, you have to log on first, and then click onto the member's name.  You can do a search for a member, but that is cumbersome.  The easiest thing to do is to find one of their posts, click onto their name, and their profile will come up.  On the left hand side of their profile, there is a menu of things you can do, like send a private message or see all of their postings since they joined.  This is particularly useful when you want to find out what brought them to IHD in the first place as you will be able to see their very first introductory post.

2.  If you want to read all of the most recent posts on IHD, toward the bottom of the forums page, you'll see "Forum Stats".  That will show the most recent post, and underneath that, you can click onto "View the most recent posts on the forum."  You don't have to log on to do this.

I hope this helps!

[amanda100wilson]

It took me over a year to get a fistula up and running.

[boswife]

also..to add to MM's  'tips '     , on the top of each page where you see your little picture, and it sais "hey Gerald Livley, you have __ messages" etc... well right under that it will give you a couple of options...  Thats where i always start my readings

[Gerald Lively]

From my old blog - I wrote this when I was healthy and competing in championship powerlifting.  I am pleased to report that I still hold this philosophy today. (2008)  This is also the year the forest fire burnt out very large house down to the ground.



 "Strife is a knife into the bowels of life."

I listen to the passing thoughts, each unrelated to the next when I permit my mind to run free. This abstraction is me. Should I announce a self image, a private musing, or is this a manifestation to reality? Try me! Does this connect to anything you know?

Who are we? Or is there no "we" and only me. Did I imagine you and the world you inhabit? Am I so masochistic that I have made myself live and struggle to be in this place, in this time? Are you merely bytes in some electro-magnetic circuit, something I imagined? If so, why don't you have larger boobs? That is why there is "we" and not just me; you see, I cannot change you.

So, we are in this mess together. Where? If the string theory works, permitting parallel universes, then we are insignificant and we, you and me, place too much importance on our existence. Follow the theory to it's end and you may realize that we are a miniscule something that is only a part of something larger. Larger! Yes, we may be a part of a proton in a crumb of bread hidden in some corner of the kitchen floor in a larger place and a different time.

So, why anguish about life. As I have said on other occasions; life is for living - strife is a knife into the bowels of life. Live life, screw the definition of what we may be and enjoy the life cycle you happen to be in.

Everything is electro-magnetic energy, our eyes are tuners to see only a small portion of the spectrum, so permit you mind to roam. Yes, you! I shall return to my poke of fun at the Mythical Being that Nobody has Seen. You may wish to connect to me, or thee and be astounded by the simplicity of it all.

Kootie J

[Whamo]

I'm sorry your fistula isn't going well.  I did my follow up for my first surgery, expecting a second surgery, but the surgeon said it went so well I'll be trying out my fistula in two weeks.  I can't wait to get rid of my chest catheter and start taking showers.   It's the best Christmas present I could get.  Thank you, Jesus, thank you, Lord. 

[Gerald Lively]

I am the voice that rumbles beyond the clouds; the angel called Earl; the mystic entity that puffs the lonely wind (not flatulence); I am the scribe of the commandments. So there, you know who I am. No, I don't have an e-mail address. I have viewed the world I created and those little creatures that swarm over the surface of this place, and have considered calling Clark. No, not Clark Kent; "Clark, we need you!" Perhaps I have over created for there are lawyers among the many.

First, I wrote 30 commandments and discovered two problems immediately, Moses couldn't read and he was no weightlifter. True, I had to write them on a rock because Moses forgot to bring neither paper nor pencil. He was not a good student. Then he dropped them and broke my words into many pieces. I had not backed up my thesis and could not remember them all, so he got ten; it was all he could handle. Besides, he broke them, so I made him carve the words on the second set. I have often speculated that he snuck something in there, which is why there are lawyers.

I remember a few that were left behind; yes, thou shalt not eat Twinkies from the 7/11; thou shalt not smoke after sex and you are instructed to snuggle and say huggy-pooh things; I didn't use the word "covet" and I have no idea what it means, coulda been a typo (as in cover - think about it); Thou shalt not pull your pud more than once per day and I don't care about prostate health; Thou shalt change your underwear once each day, you never know if you're going to be in an accident (I think that one came from Mom, yes, I have one of those, we were Jewish, ya know).

Many have wondered why I was on the mountain top and not down in the valley for everyone to witness; the answer came from my caring soul, Moses was getting fat so I made him climb the mountain a bunch of times. It didn't work, he always carried a large picnic basket, ate all of the contents and used the basket to carry the stone upon which I had scribed those magnificent words. He had wheels on the basket.

I have always wondered where those poor former slaves of the Egyptians came up with all that gold to make those idols that Moses flipped out over. Me thinks there was some skullduggery going on.

But there was manna all around the mountain so they hung around for about forty years. You would think they'd get tired of the stuff. Matzo balls, a lawyer changed the name. Boy, I sure got tired of making those things. Shoulda made a commandment about 'em. They were fattening, and Charleton Heston didn't look like Moses. Moses never exercised a day in his life, and he didn't shave or use deodorant. This was the beginning of Welfare, an institution that has survived the resistance of time and Republicans.

Hold on, the phone is ringing! "Yes, this is the mystical being that nobody has ever seen." "Uh huh, all of 'em". "Thanks Clark!"

gl

[MooseMom]

"Saving Grace"...the Angel Earl....fine TV entertainment with the perfect finale.

[Gerald Lively]

In my humble opinion, Saving Grace was the best TV series ever.  The creativity was stupendous, the casting was perfect and the writers displayed an obvious sense of freedom. Terrific stuff.

[Gerald Lively]

Surgery tomorrow AM - 5:30 AM.  My doctor is a vampire and only works at night.  This is cruel and unusual punishment.  This is . . . . . . . something or other.  All of you probably consider my forearm angioplasty minor surgery, but it isn't for me.  This is nothing more than another in a long series of medical harrassments that fate is planned for me by the "man behind the curtain".

And, yes, I have been down in the dumps this weekend.  Whoa is me!  Sniffle, sniffle.

[Whamo]

I hope all went well.  We haven't heard from you so I'd guess you are recovering in a haze of pain killers.

[Gerald Lively]

The surgery was anticlimactic.  It was nothing.  No pain, no strain.  The last word from the Surgeon was, “We may have to do this again.” And I went further into a funk. There is no end to this. No time for myself. All of my waking hours are devoted to some aspect of dialysis.  This isn’t living, this is existing.  I have no intention to live for the purpose of keeping doctor’s appointments.

[cariad]

It certainly seems never-ending and beyond overwhelming at times. I hope your spirits lift, Gerald. Medical procedures are no fun, but glad to hear you were in no pain. We are here to listen and help you navigate the emotional fallout from all of this, and share a laugh with you as you are clearly a man who appreciates the importance of that. Thinking of you.

[Gerald Lively]

Before I could walk, Dad wanted me to move around but Mom usually impeded progress out of concern for my safety.  I actually remember several episodes at that time in my life.  Example; we lived in a house that had a gas heater on one side of the room.  A ceramic grate inside, through a little open vent, glowed in various colors, changing from time to time – probably affected by the temperature of incoming air.  I was fascinated by it.  Mom always pulled me back.

There was my sister, of course, Catherine. A year younger and she was a handful.  One Sunday when she was about three and we were all dressing up to go to church, she wore a fluffy little all white dress and white shoes with a bonnet to match.  I was told to keep “an eye on her”.  Then we were sent outside.  This house was in the middle of a vineyard with large irrigation ditches every so often.  I especially recall her shoes; they were chalk white with the white shoe polish they used in those days. Yep, she headed for one of those irrigation ditches.  I had my eye on her.  That ditch was dry up to a board that blocked random water intrusion.  She started to climb over that piece of wood.  I tried to pull her back but she started screaming, as she usually did when we were together.  In she went.   That mud was especially black.  I was all clean and I wasn’t going in after her, besides she was already dirty.  She looked like she fell into a vat of chocolate.  I remember my father saying, “I told you to watch her,” and I said, “I did watch her.”  This was the first time I got knocked down for being a smart ass.

Grammar school was so boring that I could hardly stand being there.  Those teachers and my parents decided that I wasn’t hearing the lessons so I was given hearing tests.  Ears were okay.  ‘Smack’ to the back of the head for not listening.  By now, getting hit was routine. Life seemed unfair. I wasn’t aggressive but I did fight back and it was always me who got the punishment, usually a paddle to the knuckles.  I was learning that life wasn’t fair or that fairness had nothing to with life. The lesson I learned at that age (about six) was survival, a trait used for the rest of my life.  And that comes in various forms.

In class one day after the teacher read one chapter out loud from Jack London’s Call of the Wild, she turned to the class and instructed us to write a book review based on our progress through the story.  I wrote mine and never gave it a second thought.  The next day she called the class to attention and read my book report out loud.  She read only mine. She praised what I thought was casual work.  I don’t know what she intended but that episode had an effect on me, as in, be myself. Not what others expect you to be. Then we moved to another town.

They placed me in Catholic school, the worst experience of my life.  They thought I was stupid, too stupid to keep up with studies.  So, My parents and those nuns had me take an IQ test.  I don’t know the results but it perplexed those nuns.  I asked my mother what the score was and she said, “I can’t tell you because it would go to your head.”  It wasn’t until I joined the Army did I find out.

Mom and Dad turned into drunks.  I could do nothing right.  Dad always prefaced a bout of hitting by saying you’ll be nothing but a pencil pusher.  Dad committed incest with my sister and I ran away from home, joining the Army.  It was there that my learning curve took a huge upward turn.  In my years there, I grew up.  Military intelligence.  Owned a junior partnership in a liquor store, sold it and went to college.  Elected Student Body President and yes, I had a sign ready for protest meetings (1970’s).

I have since lived a life based on the Ying/yang philosophy.  Executive by day, biker on weekends. Owned nine different Harleys. Sailed on SF Bay. Hiked the northern California foothills.  Competed in powerlifting until I achieved four California records.  Did amateur radio.  Built a home. Built the County Administration building – 61,000 sq.ft.  Built two libraries. Renovated the Main Jail and ran the jail for four years while I was also the county budget officer (second in command).

Then retirement.  I wanted to see everything we owned, purchase the right cruising sailboat and live out my days in some tropical sleepy lagoon.  But along came Lymphoma. Then Prostate Cancer, then Gall Bladder, then prostate again, then Hodgkin’s Lymphoma again and finally, Renal Failure.

Although I was delirious for a time (I’ll have to relate that experience some time) I always thought I could cope.  I only had to do dialysis three times per week and that wasn’t much of a burden.  Not true.  Remember, I also have cancer.  So, everyday is either recovery from dialysis or I have an appointment for some test and some doctor who only wants to tell me that I have another appointment down the road.  Doctors are like that. I saw a specialist for Syncope and he insisted I undergo his sleep clinic.  He failed to explain the relationship between syncope and sleep, so I told him to stuff it.  After that he talked to me only when his back was turned to me.

Then there was that cataract surgery, the Doc hit my eyeball with her little laser and I wasn’t asleep.  I jumped up, grabber her arm and let out a long string of expletives.  Yes, I was half under, I don’t remember my exact words.  After a few minutes she finished up.  It still hurt.  And my eyes have gotten worse.  Sometimes I struggle to read this monitor and it’s a biggy. 

So, the house burnt down in a forest fire.  We lost everything except the vehicles we escaped in.  It turns out this arm of the fire was caused by the firemen fighting the fire when they lit a back-fire and it turned around and overran the fire line – a quarter mile from our house.  Some retirement.

Well folks, there is more to all this but I have burdened any reader who got this far, unfairly.  I am writing just to get my own head straight.  I had an angioplasty on my forearm two days ago and it was nothing.  Did not sleep for several days.  I climbed down into the a very deep depression in spite of the antidepressant I take. I am attempting to work my way out into the sunlight.

It looks as if I will never have time for another adventure, no new ground to break, only the semi-daily grind of that dialysis machine and another doctor who will look me over as if I were some kind of test dummy.  I am not built for this crap.  I feel mistreated.  I want a way out.

Gerald Lively

[Gerald Lively]

Catherine, my sister, died from Renal Failure and Lymphoma in 1999 - in Texas.

[Gerald Lively]

I scared everybody away by crying in my beer.  Shame on me.

[Gerald Lively]

I just chased the neighbor's dog off the patio.  I suppose the neighbor will complain that his dog is constipated.
That was the bog news from California.
I am outta breath.
Huff,. puff.
Maybe I shouldn't have fed that dog exlax cookies.

[boswife]

burdened... i think not...  You bring so many thoughts to me and I'm stumped.  I wish i could get out onto paper, or computer,( or somewhere dangit!!), my thoughts as you are able.  I appreciate all that you let out to us and only wish i were magical and could give you a beautiful happy "way out"....   oh yea,, and "shame on me"  i think not AGAIN!!  i say GOOD for you!  Your crying in your beer did make me think of my mom and her always saying "well for crying in the beer" ..lol  and that made me laugh.. and that's a good thing.  So, write write write, and let me read it if nothing else.  And just think, mabie one of our wiser ones will come on with some actual help..........and better spelling than i...

[Jean]

Gerald, your writing absolutely touched my heart. I too have had an exciting life much like yours. Like boswife, I too wish I could put my thoughts and feelings onto paper as you did. Good job, keep writing. I have no answers for you either by the way, except what my Mom always said, "Keep your chin up". It helps me.

[Traveller1947]

You haven't scared anyone away, Gerald.  What you've written touches all of us and you express yourself so beautifully.  None of us here has the life we would have chosen.  That's what this forum is really about.  We help each other along in this difficult journey.  Your 'grumbling' and your humor contribute a lot.

[Gerald Lively]

Write this down; I hate dialysis.  Yes indeed, it robs you of feeling good, leaves you at the mercy of an uninterested nurse, limits the water you drink, the food you eat, and it takes away your ambition by robbing you of your soul. 

I asked the good Doctor today if I was eligible for a transplant.  No!  It seems I have cancer and kidney failure at the same time.  I have to wait five years, then I will be 78.  Well, shit fire and save matches, that won’t work.  Condemned to suffer.

So, what is the answer?  After long discussions with the Doc and Wife, we decided to get a dog.  I want one that sits on my lap, licks my face and can’t wait for me to come home.  Yep, a dog.  Wife asked me what I would name it; “Augie”.  That goes with Augie-Doggie.  So, we looked at pooches today and I got sick.  Had the Hersey squirts.  Can’t wait for Augie.  Need Augie.

Is this a way out of the funk?

gl

[MooseMom]

Have you thought more about nocturnal home hemo?  If you can go that route, you get rid of a hattrick of problems, ie the bored nurse, the fluid/dietary restrictions and the soul destroying hours wasted at the clinic.  You dialyze at night while you sleep and live your life during the day, taking care of Auggie Doggy.

[cattlekid]

Would you like a small obnoxious beagle?  He will sit on your lap and lick your face, most often after eating something he shouldn't have. 

His name is Clark but I'm sure he'll answer to "Augie".  He sure only answers to "Clark" when he feels like it.

I could stuff him in a FedEx box and overnight him to you. 

(Can you tell that Clark and I are not on good terms right now? - He ate a few things last night around the house.)

I jest though....he's a good dog (for the most part). 

So, what is the answer?  After long discussions with the Doc and Wife, we decided to get a dog.  I want one that sits on my lap, licks my face and can’t wait for me to come home.  Yep, a dog.  Wife asked me what I would name it; “Augie”.  That goes with Augie-Doggie.  So, we looked at pooches today and I got sick.  Had the Hersey squirts.  Can’t wait for Augie.  Need Augie.

Is this a way out of the funk?

gl

[Gerald Lively]

Thursday my dialysis center took out 5.8 kilos.  My legs cramped up very badly and I couldn’t sleep last night.  Today I walk with a pronounced limp due to soreness.  I truly felt like I was going to die.  Today I checked into this.  The paper work-records say I checked in at 107.8 kilos and they took me down to 101.something.  My dry weight is 102.0.  It turns out that this was a handwriting error.  I actually checked in at 104.8.

For this reason, if for no other reason, I will get out of that place and into home dialysis.  The bad news is that cannot happen for another five or six months.

I truly hate dialysis.

I picked up Augie-doggie yesterday despite how bad I felt. He is a little Chihuahua-Terrier mix. He makes a difference around here already.

Gerald

[boswife]

This is absolutly unforgivable...  You have to watch everything!!  I Told bo about this and he sais not only do you feel like dying, you wish for death... I've spent nights of pain with him and its horrable!!  Im sorry, and hope that thats the last of THAT!!  YOu know, we're on home hemo with nxStage. Well, yesterday we had to go in to get treatment so he could get a transfusion.  I did his needles, and nearly had to stand guard over him to keep at them as to how to treat him.  Now this is a GREAT center that i really admire and all, and still, it is a watch over situation.  Im grateful for the extra hours it takes to do at home!! 

Im so happy for your little Augiedogie... My animals (one particular dogie of mine inparticular) are my salvation...  They bring me peace, destraction, and oh so much love..    im overjoyed that the idea of getting a little critter came to you..  Wonderful 'happy' bringers.... 
Merry Christmas to you and yours, and peace be with you..