Discussing dialysis with my mother…
Mom: I saw it as a chance to get away from people.
Me: I think I’m already away from people quite enough.
Mom: I got to rest, take a nap for 3-4 hours.
Me: I already take quite enough naps.
She means well, but she’s not helping.
Nor was a recent comment I got telling me to think of dialysis as a “new chapter”. Yes, like one things of prison or dementia as a new chapter. Sorry, but all the chapters leading up to this point reek of rotting garbage, so I don’t exactly think of “Chapter 34: Dialysis” as some exciting new beginning.
My mother also tells me how lots of people work full-time and get dialysis. My response, “Well, a lot of people do a lot of things that I’ve never been able to do”.
F* it all. I’m not writing what anyone hopes to read from someone facing adversity. No inspiration here. I’m tired. I’m frustrated. I’m angry. And I don’t think I have it in me to handle what lies ahead. I’m not tough. I’m not strong. I’m not resilient.
“You don’t want to wait (to go on dialysis),” my mother says, “until you collapse and they have to start it in the emergency”.
Actually, I kinda feel like I do.