OOPS!
I had an email tonight from a reader who after a successful transplant has been diagnosed with BK Virus. I made the mistake of opening her message while pouring Pinot Noir to 125 customers at a wine tasting tonight and accidentally deleted the message. So, if you sent me and email and didn't hear back, I apologize so much, I know it's a difficult thing to do.
Please resend. I know the importance of communication. As I have said before, I never communicated with anyone who had PKD or BK Virus until I began blogging. So far Surviving PKD has had 10,621 pageviews, over 30 google searches in the last few days on issues such as weight gain with PKD, fistulas for dialysis, and yes, BK Virus.
My story continues on a positive track. Visits to the Dallas Transplant Center's clinic are now quarterly. The most recent was 4/17/12. Lab results were good. Hemoglobin is normal, blood pressure is under control, weight gain has stabilized, and creatinine is stable at 3.1. Which is not great, but it was as high as 5.8 during the onslaught of the BK Virus. I feel great. There are daily reminders of how sick I was during the last days of PKD and End Stage Renal Disease.
So, thank you for reading. If the blog has helped please let me know. If you have questions, please let me know. If you sent me an email today, please resend.
THANKS,
Dave.
Showing posts with label Nephrectomy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nephrectomy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Monday, September 7, 2009
Trying to Hang on the Downslope
The next few years were characterized by determination just to go on with life as if everything was normal. But the blood pressure kept climbing higher and there was occasional discomfort sleeping on my side; seatbelts and airline seats put pressure on my enlarging kidneys. Stoicism, determination and deep currents of denial kept me going.
In the spring of 1997, Susan and the boys were off on spring break. I awoke one night with intense throbbing pain in my left flank. The only similar pain I had experienced were my kidney stones, so that was my self-diagnosis. Remembering the staggering cost of staying in a hospital for several days just to flush the stones by myself, I took a good slug of tylenol with several large glasses of water and went back to bed to just tough it out. Another bout of good thinking by the Dave-man!
The pain was somewhat better the next morning and I went on to work. My next action did show some intelligence and I called the doctor and made an appointment. An X-ray with dyes revealed some issues, and after a CT scan, I was referred to a urologist. The problem was what appeared to be a solid mass of indeterminate origin the size of a baseball on the left kidney. It could either be cancer or a blood filled cyst. (Sidenote for those who don't know: Polycystic Kidneys spontaneously develop many fluid-filled cysts. They continue to grow and squeeze the kidney like a hand squeezing a sponge. Just as a compressed sponge will not absorb water, the compressed kidney will not filter blood.) The pain was either from compression or bleeding into the cyst. He saw surgery to take a biopsy as the best option. Wow! I was not ready for this option. Cancers of the kidney are nasty. They rarely show up at an early stage becaues they are just not symptomatic!
We went for a second opinion and the doctor's opinion was a good deal less than sugar-coated. Basically he said my kidney's were trashed and I was lucky to be alive or words to that effect. We left his office devasted. My urologist said things were not that bad, because despite how distorted the kidney's appeared they were still functioning a a fairly high level. He did say there was a possiblity that the kidney might not survive the surgery and he would have to remove it, but that the remaining kidney would continue to function well. And we agreed to the surgery.
In the spring of 1997, Susan and the boys were off on spring break. I awoke one night with intense throbbing pain in my left flank. The only similar pain I had experienced were my kidney stones, so that was my self-diagnosis. Remembering the staggering cost of staying in a hospital for several days just to flush the stones by myself, I took a good slug of tylenol with several large glasses of water and went back to bed to just tough it out. Another bout of good thinking by the Dave-man!
The pain was somewhat better the next morning and I went on to work. My next action did show some intelligence and I called the doctor and made an appointment. An X-ray with dyes revealed some issues, and after a CT scan, I was referred to a urologist. The problem was what appeared to be a solid mass of indeterminate origin the size of a baseball on the left kidney. It could either be cancer or a blood filled cyst. (Sidenote for those who don't know: Polycystic Kidneys spontaneously develop many fluid-filled cysts. They continue to grow and squeeze the kidney like a hand squeezing a sponge. Just as a compressed sponge will not absorb water, the compressed kidney will not filter blood.) The pain was either from compression or bleeding into the cyst. He saw surgery to take a biopsy as the best option. Wow! I was not ready for this option. Cancers of the kidney are nasty. They rarely show up at an early stage becaues they are just not symptomatic!
We went for a second opinion and the doctor's opinion was a good deal less than sugar-coated. Basically he said my kidney's were trashed and I was lucky to be alive or words to that effect. We left his office devasted. My urologist said things were not that bad, because despite how distorted the kidney's appeared they were still functioning a a fairly high level. He did say there was a possiblity that the kidney might not survive the surgery and he would have to remove it, but that the remaining kidney would continue to function well. And we agreed to the surgery.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
