Ron Austin of Allen: A second chance

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Ron Austin of Allen: A second chance

After the shock, there's the education on how to live with impaired kidneys

09:18 AM CDT on Thursday, August 23, 2007

Editor's note: This is the first of a three-part series about Ron Austin and his family's struggle with kidney disease. The second column will appear tomorrow.

You have just been informed by your primary care physician that you have End-Stage Renal Disease. Your kidneys are failing. The results of your recent blood test analysis showed indications that you had high phosphorus, low hematocrit, high BUN, low red blood cell count, high blood pressure or some other out-of-norm reading. What do you do now?

Obviously, you listen very carefully to your doctor and follow the advice given. Get your prescriptions filled, read the dietary information and make the necessary changes to your personal habits. If you were referred by your doctor to a nephrologist, give that priority. Make your appointment soon, put it on your calendar, and be sure you go.

The little adjustments you make in your diet and your meds will take care of most of the physical things you can do to postpone complete failure of your kidneys. Your kidney specialist will tailor treatment to your specific needs.

Good, you have been put in good hands, now what? You have to deal with it emotionally, spiritually, socially and mentally, as well as physically. Therein are some real opportunities for living a quality life.

Chronic health issues rank up there with the death of a relative or close friend, the loss of your house to fire or storm, and loss of job as a cause of stress, depression, anger, sadness and grief. Your attitude and the angle from which you approach your new "problem" is likely to shed light on your future wellness.

Should the time come for you to begin dialysis, you will be educated on your options and given time to decide how best to take treatment. Talk about your health issues with family. Let them know where you stand on treatment options, schedule for any possible surgery and best times for appointments. Adjust your personal work or social calendar to accommodate your new life adjustment and get on with living.

Some tips for developing a healthy attitude include:

l. Thank God for the medical progress that makes treatment possible and for your medical team.

2. Thank your family and enlist those you depend on for support to assist you in making life changes.

3. Adopt the "Why Not Me" instead of the "Why Me?" approach. Know that God will give you grace to endure, if you look to Him.

4. Pray and enlist others.

5. Be thankful every day for friends and family who care.

6. Adjust your personal expectations to your new limitations.

I began dialysis in May 2004. Today, I am healthier than I have been in the past 10 to 15 years due to my adjusted diet, exercise, faith, support from family and friends, and excellent dialysis treatments.

I chose evening treatment so I would be available to return to full-time work. Three times per week for four hours each, I get to sit in a recliner and watch ball games, the news or rerun sitcoms, and no one gives me any static about it. And, while I am doing it, some of the best nurses and techs make sure my dialysis goes well. Yes, I snack a lot while I enjoy the TV and sometimes pick at the nurses and techs. Who wouldn't?

Ron Austin of Allen is a retired educator and a former Voices of Collin County volunteer columnist. His e-mail address is raustinedd@hotmail.com.

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/city/collin/opinion/stories/DN-north_austin1_0823edi.ART.North.Edition1.42733eb.html#

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A second chance

Learning to live with the threat of kidney disease helped RON AUSTIN of Allen see a higher purpose

12:00 AM CDT on Friday, August 24, 2007

Editor's note: This is the second of a three-part series about Ron Austin and his family's struggle with kidney disease. The first column can be found online at www.dallasnews.com/communityopinions. The third column will appear tomorrow.

It began about 1947, when my father was diagnosed with terminal Bright's disease, or kidney failure. There were no options. Dialysis hadn't been perfected and wasn't available. A transplant was out of the question.

Dad died a slow and painful death over two years. It took its toll on my family. My mom called on family and friends to help with the children. She stayed by Dad's side until the end. But he passed on to his children a potential for this mysterious disease. It was hereditary, though no one knew how or when it might strike others.

There were four children in the family. None of them showed any symptoms. All four were athletes and active in youth activities. They helped neighbors with farm and garden chores. Mom kept a close eye on the health of her four children. The only notable problem was a heart murmur in the oldest child, a boy. We grew up experiencing a life of wellness.

Then in 1973, my oldest sibling took his son to the emergency room because the son had accidentally swallowed a nickel. The routine X-ray and blood tests all patients were given revealed systemic signs of abnormal kidneys. Steven, my nephew, began getting sicker and sicker. He had end-stage renal disease.

After medical consultation in Galveston and several months of an adjusted regimen, he began weekend peritoneal dialysis treatment from Friday evening through Sunday afternoon.

He did well until both ends of a weekend treatment had to be shortened. The next Saturday, he became overloaded with fluid and went into cardiac arrest. He was awaiting a slim possibility of a juvenile renal transplant, but he never got the chance. He died at the age of 8, a third-grader.

All my siblings began to pay closer attention to their health check-ups and those of their children. In 1980, ESRD struck again. This time it was my daughter, Karen, who was a ninth-grade honor student. She had been active in drill team, choir and other activities when we lived in Arkansas.

One day when I came home, Karen was lying on the couch. Normally, she would pick at me some way. That day she just smiled weakly and wiggled a finger at me. I knew something was wrong.

After a few missed clues on her chart and a lot of lab work, she was treated with emergency peritoneal dialysis.

Karen's mother, Linda, gave her a kidney nine months later. But within the year she rejected the kidney and went on continuous ambulatory peritoneal dialysis. This was her lifeline throughout her last two years of high school and four years of college. She got her second transplant in July 1988. She went on to graduate school, got her master's and taught in a college and a Christian school before complications following hip surgery caused her death in September 2001. Hers was a fearless life of faith.

Our son experienced some blood pressure problems in elementary school, but we didn't get any indication that he was having kidney problems. The familial kidney disease struck him in January 1989. He called me about midnight from a friend's apartment to tell me he felt like he was drowning when he laid down. I suggested he sleep in a recliner to lessen his difficult breathing. A second call at four in the morning caused me great concern. I instructed him to wake his friend and get to the emergency room.

We arrived from Fayetteville after a harried four-hour drive down curvy State Highway 71. He survived, and a year later got his first transplant, but his body rejected it.

He got a second transplant in January 2003. It has been a good one and he continues to work and enjoy the freedom from the four-hour, three-days-a-week dialysis treatment. He attributes his wellness to his faith in God throughout the long ordeal.

Even though I had known my own kidneys were losing function since my college days, it still came as a shock when, in November 2003, my nephrologists informed me that I would soon need dialysis.

It was now time to tell my family. I kept the news from my mom and wife as long as I could because of the trauma they had had to deal with over the years.

We moved to the Dallas area to be closer to our son. We live in Texas now and I make my regular three-days-a-week dialysis appointments.

Reflecting on the kidney disease potential for the future, I am thankful that no other family member has developed symptoms. All nephews and nieces are in good health, and my son has no children. When he marries, we will look to good medicine and put our faith in God as we live out our lives.

Do we feel sorry for ourselves? Absolutely not. Everyone has some burden to bear.

Looking around me, I see blue skies, green grass, good neighbors, new friends and the changing seasons. God's grace for living is there for me. Anyone who seeks that power source for living will experience a real joy.

Winston Churchill said it best: "Never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in, except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy."

Ron Austin of Allen is a retired educator and a former Voices of Collin County volunteer columnist. His e-mail address is raustinedd@hot mail.com.

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/city/collin/opinion/stories/DN-north_austin2_0824edi.ART.North.Edition1.42c29ca.html

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Ron Austin of Allen: A second chance

In illness, 'Why not me?' is the better question

09:57 AM CDT on Sunday, August 26, 2007

Editor's note: This is the third of a three-part series about Ron Austin and his family's struggle with kidney disease. The first two columns can be found online at www.dallasnews.com/communityopinions .

After getting on the kidney transplant list in July of 2005, I continued successful dialysis treatment at Collin County Dialysis Center. I was content to live out my life on dialysis because it worked so well, and the staff there encouraged me in so many ways. I met many of the patients and kept up with their ups and downs.

Once in a while, we would get the news that a patient had died, and we grieved together. And occasionally one would get a transplant, and we celebrated together. CCDC was my home for 15 to 20 hours each week.

A longtime runner, I kept it up, running three to four miles the morning of each dialysis day. I threw in an extra run on Mondays. I planted gardens, re-caulked my entire house and worked in the wood shop. Physically, I couldn't have been in better shape. Fact is, I felt better than I had felt the past 20 years on reduced kidney function.

One Sunday evening about 6:30, as we were headed to International House of Pancakes to meet several couples from church, the transplant coordinator called. He told me that a kidney was possibly available.

I asked several questions: What caused his death? How old was he, and were there any open sores on his body? Did he have high blood pressure? What was the creatinine (kidney poisons) level? Were there any chronic diseases in his medical history?

The answers gave me the information I needed. I passed up this kidney.

In the next year, that call was repeated, usually in the middle of the night, three more times. I asked a coordinator if I was getting a reputation as one who would resist a kidney transplant, and was assured that it made no difference. I remained at the top of the list with my antigens and blood types. I expected it would be a long time before the next call.

Meanwhile, my family and friends, my church and in particular the choir and orchestra, deacons and Bible Fellowship group encouraged me and prayed.

It was July 20 in the middle of a dialysis treatment that the next call came from the transplant coordinator. The possible kidney was from an 8-year-old girl who had died in an accident. I had no questions. What possible complications could an 8-year-old have acquired? Humbly, I said I would take this kidney. The coordinator instructed me to complete my treatment and report to Baylor Hospital in Dallas.

The surgery was set for Saturday about 11 a.m. I slept easily and peacefully, thinking often about my special donor and the big-hearted decision her family had made that gave me a new direction for life. I decided to attempt to meet them and share in their grief. I planned to acquire some copies of pictures and maybe some schoolwork to make a scrapbook of her short life so that I would never forget her.

The whole situation has given me a renewed love for children, especially 8-year-olds. It's all a mystery to me that I live, and she doesn't. Only God knows why.

They came for me on time. I told my family goodbye. Next thing I knew, I was in recovery feeling really good.

The kidney is probably second to the brain in the number of things it controls. It decides when there is too much potassium, phosphorus and other contaminants in the blood and filters out the excess. It tells the bone marrow when to release new red blood cells. It helps regulate blood pressure. The kidney is a complex organ, not just a blood filter.

One month after receiving the transplant, I visited the Dallas Transplant Institute for the 15th time. Each trip, they draw blood and I get a lab report. I am hopeful. And, I am eager to get back on the road to running and doing my chores. This roller-coaster ride, all in all, has been a joy.

I thank God daily for my special little donor and wonder: Why me? Then I remember: Why not me? Only God knows.

Ron Austin of Allen is a retired educator and a former Voices of Collin County volunteer columnist. His e-mail address is raustinedd@hotmail.com.

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/city/collin/opinion/stories/DN-north_austin3_0826edi.ART.North.Edition1.4250d99.html