February 2012

It’s been a while since the adventures in kidney world last hit your mail box. I think the last image was of a somewhat bedraggled figure clutching bagels down the Finchley Road. Well, spinal fusion in August: pins,cage and bone graft firmly in place. Six months on and hours of physio later it is pronounced a success. Well the luck had to turn surely?

So now we return to the famous ureter, bladder, kidney which all this time has threatened to erupt into some sort of Icelandic ash cloud effect. Cutting a long story short….my bladder  is now ‘denervated’- ie it has lost all feeling.  Mr Surgeon did the urodynamic test himself. He was so nice and kind but with a catheter in every orifice, tipped up down and round, made to cough sit pee with taps running and still nothing comes out…it is horrendous. I was then sent to see a nurse to be taught how to self catheterise. She was nice. had me lying down with a mirror. The mirror just confuses things and lying down is hardly the normal way to pee. So I gathered my sample bag. Holding back tears behind my sunglasses and bade farewell. Mr Surgeon pooped in to check on progress. I tried to look fine. Eventually caught a train, dropped all the samples on the floor of the overcrowded carriage. Bumped into  a friend at the other end. Promptly burst into tears.  Much to his horror. I arrived home announced all was well and got supper ready for everyone. Not daring to try the catheter until totally on my own.

The well designed disposal catheters are brought to my very own front door in a thoughtfully anonymous brown parcel providing the essential drainage system as required.  I suppose ‘catheters’ screaming technicolour all over the white van and parcel might upset the general public’s sensitivities. All courtesy of the government’s very own ‘continence’ fund. Thank you very much taxpayers all.

Problem is those magnificent men in their chopping machines managed a brilliant reconstruction of ureter to bladder but…. And yes there is a big but… The ‘hose pipe’ has no non-return valve. Aha that’s a bit tricky … As the bladder fills (and no feeling there of course) it then goes back up to kidney and back down again in a rather glorious yoyo action. All the while building up a great infection filled brew. Antibiotics and painkillers are scaling new heights and less and less effective. Hospital admissions, instillations of ground breaking chemicals and and and ….. it’s been a bit rubbish really.

I have however put in a few teaching hours – a great distraction with endlessly patient colleagues ever at hand to lift, fetch, carry, supply hot Danish pastries and copious coffees. Fantastically pragmatic students: “you just tell us how it is miss – we’ll do it no problem but we do need iPads – can you fix it? One each ? Then we will do some Maths.”

So what to do? Five wonderful options emerged from many consultations … Did you know BUPA won’t pay outpatient fees after a certain limit is reached on your policy? But, as you are mid- treatment you still have to see the surgeon. Who then, at a mere flick of his secretary’s word document, pronounces an increase in fees – no choices. Well that’s a good game.

Where was I? Oh yes, what to do? Five options. Best one was ‘do nothing’. I really hoped we could take that one. Others involved moving all the right side to the left side in various guises. Sounded horribly lopsided to me and I really could not contemplate any more major surgery. The use of the word ‘try’ negated some other options. Try?  Actually I think we have tried enough. Unless I am Johnny Wilkinson and going for some sort of masochistic world record – I’m not!

So it’s going to sound dramatic but actually it’s the least bad option. It’s the least invasive, it’s the least time in hospital. Least expensive (it’s ok BUPA will pay for inpatient). Least problematic recovery – so I can’t play contact sports eh ? That rules out the old rugby, sorry Jonno.  I have done all the preflight checks and more besides  etc. If one more clipboard- clutching- health -professional- person- type asks me if I have ever had an operation before I will grasp her hypodermic wotsit and stick it somewhere ….. just hope the prepare for take off does not include how to use the tv remote this time…

So what is happening?
I’m going to have the right kidney removed. Surgeon number 450, Ozzyy D.  He’s firm but fair…and from…oh well lager and bbq sounds fine to me. Kidney will be offered to the London transplant team for a potential recipient. So in a grim two years, finally the end is in sight. And someone somewhere out there is packing a bag tonight ready for a new kidney and new beginnings  – I wish them every happiness and best of health. It’s a good kidney, devoted service etc and just needs a ureter really. Maybe one day we might be allowed to share our stories.

Back soon

Jacq

Oh I nearly forgot … It’s tomorrow. 29th Feb. Only happens every four years. The next one will be boring. I promise.