These perfect moments for me supply my life with the necessary energy and comfort when the "overwhelmings" creep into my daily life. I know I will have many calls today, bills to pay and the necessities to complete that will fill my day with the usual stress of my life.
Five to six days per week I have a push-me/pull-you experience with Damon. Damon and I have an unusual and yet defining experience. I count on Damon to give me life. He gets nothing in return. Damon is an emotional vampire. He wears me down in many ways. Damon is also a mechanical vampire. You see, "Damon" (so named after a vampire in the TV series "Vampire Diaries") is my home hemo dialysis machine. Me, being a 55 yo mother and grandmother began watching the series with my daughter and in my imagination of being in the fairy tales looked at the character of Damon with dreamy, glassy eyes and I knew his name would be perfect for my dialysis machine.
I arise in the morning making calls, following up on appointments, inventory, clean out a cupboard or organize storage, stop to give a hug or a scolding to one of the grandkids. I check my emails, my accounts like LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook. I check out "Kidney Steps" blog. It often has information and details I enjoy learning. I scan through the posts on all the FB support groups for dialysis and other random interests. I check on my sons, daughter-in-law for pics of our youngest granddaughter and try to remember every little bit of her sweet face. Lastly I check on my "KIDNEY" page. It is my "page of hope". I created this FB page about 18 months ago to help facilitate finding a living kidney donor for myself. I promote the page wherever I go and ask others to share.
https://www.facebook.com/AmyNeedsALivingDonorKidney
Please check it out. Click on like and share it if you can. Don't forget to click on "about" and then "see more". You may learn a little and help me and others at the same time.
After this bit of hope, I play a game of candy crush or Bubblewitch saga. I may walk out to the back deck or sit on the front porch and pet my furbabies. I chat with my daughter and my husband is always there to make me laugh for the day. He hugs me. I am small now and he snuggles me as best he can. When all is done and around mid-afternoon it is time for Damon.
My sweet husband helps me connect to the machine through a catheter (tubes) coming out of my chest. They end inside my heart. We must carefully practice clean protocol to avoid any germs and thus infection. We routinely connect talking through our facemasks and wearing our exam gloves. He changes the dressing at the exit site. This catheter is fairly new and I still have stitches that are tender. I adjust the settings for fluid to be removed, rate of blood flow etc. I watch as the blood flows out of my body slowly changing the color in the tubing from clear to deep red. On it goes like a finger drawing a curvy line. Around, up through and down. Finally it returns to my body. I don't feel anything. I don't feel sick when the blood is drawn out. It is an odd, empty, plain experience. It has also become part of my living. Eleven years with Damon. Five to six nights per week for eleven years with Damon. Like a full-time job.
I sit reclined in my chair for 7-8 hours. I knit. I read. I watch TV. I play games. I help with homework. I rock my granddaughter and occasionally she will climb into my lap grasping "our" blanket and fall asleep. Here, right here is yet another perfect moment. I snatch it up and place it also on my shelf of perfect moments. Tomorrow I may need one. Damon keeps me safe, healthy as possible considering I have no kidneys. Damon and I understand each other.
Tomorrow I will use him again and he will do all he can to help me stay alive so those perfect moments will fill my shelf and on the dark and dreary and nearly hopeless days I can retrieve the ones that will make that dim light in the darkness brighten.
Blessings & Peace.
Amy
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