Just want to have a pity party over a first world problem. My SPK transplant was the best decision of my life and literally provides the most normalcy I’ve ever had in my life. And then, something happens, and I’m brought back to earth that I’m still a patient on a form of renal replacement therapy. Although I feel great and live “normal”, I’m not exactly normal, still. My husband is from a really small town called Dukat. The closest (most basic) hospital is in the nearest “bigger” city of Omsukchan. A more advanced hospital is 370 miles away but they don’t have a nephrology department. Only urology to handle kidney stones and tumors. Time to be thankful I had availability for dialysis then. His nuclear family still live there and he’s decided he’s going home for an extended trip. Not sure why, but he loves it there. I’ve never been. Although original intentions were that I would go with him, we decided that I’m not going. My doctors are not helping me accumulate the drugs I need (regulations) and they gave their opinion (it was advice, not orders), that it’s not a good idea to go to places without quick access to good medical care. My husband has this “need” to go home (what is he, a bird?) after seeing so many sick people this year. It bothered him a lot that a (prior) transplant patient (not kidney...) we met in hospital (had complications later on) passed away and he was barely 25. He said he gave too much time to hospitals this year (...although he went to the FIFA World Cup...) so now he needs time at his roots. So, his sister got really on my case that I “lied.” Like a lot of people, they picture transplant patients are sickly, pale, don’t live all that long and take bottles upon bottles of poison pills. Pretty much, they say transplant life isn’t worth living. They don’t know much. It’s what they hear from myths and television. When I said I’m doing really well and feel great, yet can’t go with my husband, she believes I’m lying. There’s obviously something wrong! It’s caused a rift between my husband and I during this holiday season. I know he’s unhappy here because he has no friends and he’s really different than guys his age here. Me thinks he resents me for this.I don’t want to return to dialysis ever again, though I know it’s going to happen one day, but at least with HD, there were no expectations of me. With transplant, people expect more, and when you can’t, you’re a disappointment. All those happy smiling people riding bikes and stuff on pamphlets, you know? All the success stories of recipients swimming across lakes, climbing mountains.... I guess this wouldn’t be a problem if he was from somewhere half-way civilized. So... just kinda weepy today... with reality hitting smack in the face that tx is a form of RRT. An awesome form of RRT but that’s what it is nonetheless. With so much goodness, we kinda forget that. Anyone know this feeling?
Thanks kristina! His family was absolutely super kind during transplant. They were really concerned, called a lot, managed to send cards and a gift later on. They are very caring people but like you say, they just don’t understand the situation. And they have hang ups over our family situation because they are traditional in their ways but in this case, they have learned they have no say in the matter. Since they are kind of simple people (and I mean it in the nicest way), their knowledge of transplant comes from investigative television shows, police crime dramas and some pretty questionable headlines. They don't know of the contributions and research of scientists done in the same country.They really wanted a positive outcome but remain skeptical of someone having such a major operation/on such prescriptions living a normal life. In a way, yes, I would be hesitant to tell them if I have any such problems because I don’t want to deepen their false beliefs that transplant doesn’t improve quality of life. It's like of like being an ambassador within signing on to it!I was honest in that the reason I’m skipping the visit is not due to how I feel but rather, they live in a place where medical care is lacking. They know that because his dad has a heart condition. (Old age, hard life, nothing congenital.) And secondly, if I don’t have adequate anti-rejection drugs, I’m not going anywhere. But they are adamant that something is wrong when nothing is wrong. It bothers me a lot that I can’t go and in a way, I feel tethered in the way dialysis made me feel. And you’re right, it’s just a different form of treatment. I never viewed transplant as a cure, and was never advised of any such thing, but I got carried away with being “so normal” now. My husband should go visit them too so he can’t later say my “needs” and “time requirements” stifled his life. But goshdarnit, it’s not my fault they live in Fraggle Rock!