Skip to content

A different kind of anniversary…..

As I was rocking my daughter to sleep tonight, I was thinking of how fast time seems to have gone since she was born, and how near she is to being one year old.  Then another thought occurred to me: it’s been almost a year since I found out for sure that I have CKD.  Wow.  All the usual thoughts went through my head, like “can it really have been that long” and such, and then another thought went through my head:

It’s been nearly a year and I’m still holding it off.

The actual significance of that thought may pass most people by.  I’m pretty good at holding my feelings in when I want to, and around the time that I found out that I have CKD my daughter was born, so as you can imagine I stayed pretty busy (which was a blessing in and of itself) and I had more important things to think about than myself.  Also, when telling people about it, I would try and become as emotionally detached as possible so as to not think about it too much myself.

But of course, that never worked.  Or if I did succeed in not “feeling it” when I had to tell someone else, I would immediately start thinking about it again later.  And again, and again, and again…..  It was something that I couldn’t escape.  I was thinking about it all the time, from thinking of all the new restrictions on my diet, on how it would change my life, on how it had changed (and shortened) my father’s life….  I had created for myself the perfect hell; what hell could be more perfect than one of my own design?  And to make matters worse, the more I dwelt on it the worse my blood pressure got, and that of course makes my decline go faster, so I ended up dwelling on it more, etc.  

To be sure, I had/have an excellent reason to be depressed.  And from what I understand, depression can be a major problem to people with CKD.  My father had told me more than once about someone not lasting a year or two once they found out, and it wasn’t because they were too old or something.  I think by and large we humans avoid the subject of our own mortality, at least in regards to exactly how much time we have left.  Since CKD by it’s very nature is a chronic disease that will not go away, no matter how much you try or wish (transplants, btw, help, but do not cure, as people who get transplants often still have to eventually go on dialysis (the disease can attack the new kidney, starting the process over again)), you have to actually face the fact that your life just got a timer put on it.  Yes, technically everybody’s life has a timer, but the difference is in the knowing, the thinking about it.  You still don’t actually know how long you have left, but you know it’s likely to be shorter than those around you.  Significantly shorter.  And for people like me, who got to watch a father die slowly of it…..  ::sigh::

As time has passed, I have learned how to cope with it better, I think.  Though it’s still something I think about all the time (I think I will forever be thinking about it all the time), I do my best to try and focus on what I can do, not what I can’t, and what I can live for, not on how the disease is progressing.  By and large, I do still “have my health”, so to speak.  I can still get around and do things, and it will likely be a very long time before I can’t, even taking my father’s decline into consideration.  No, I can’t eat everything that I want anymore, but I know there are many out there with worse restrictions.  And if I have a more limited time on this earth, then I will try to appreciate what time I have.  

I hope my rambling words will have given you a better insight to the significance of what I said above, “It’s been nearly a year and I’m still holding it off”.  It’s a change of perspective from before, a more positive approach.  I can’t promise, not even to myself, especially not to myself, that from now on I won’t be depressed at times.  But perhaps I can look back at this different kind of anniversary, this anniversary of holding my kidney failure back, and work positively towards celebrating it again the next year.  

And perhaps instead of focusing on how I can’t see a light at the end of the tunnel, I should look around me and see how much light is already in the tunnel.  My beautiful wife and daughter…..  My supportive family….  My wonderful friends…..    

::smile::  It’s been nearly a year and I’m still holding it off.

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *