Much to my great surprise the first day of dialysis did not instantly transform my life into eternal darkness and despair. Instead I actually felt better! I took a nap when I got back to the room and when I awoke, I felt great. Went for a walk under the trees outside the hospital in the crisp November afternoon, did some more tai-chi and went back to the room and read. Susan came by for dinner, we no doubt watched some Law and Order in as normal as semblance of real life as can be managed in a hospital room. The hospital was relatively quiet. I had a semi-private room, but was the sole occupant!
The second day started with the usual round of vital signs and blood draws and an earlier than expected trip to the dialysis lab. Things didn't go so smoothly this time. Some swelling around my relatively immature fistula made it difficult to find the vein. Ouch. I can't remember how many sticks it took to hit the mainline. They couldn't hit it sideways. After a number of tries, the nurse called her supervisor in to try. After a few more sticks, she finally hit it. The session went three hours this time. The flow was iffy and the machine kept shutting down. Staying still was imperative. Reading a book one handed lying flat on your back and keeping still is impossible. The tv's were on Good Morning America. Nerves prevented sleep. Three hourse seemed like six and I was happy to get back to my room. Now the future did not seem so bright, having to repeat this three times a week for the rest of my life.