Make Mine Rare. Or Not

Today and tomorrow stretch the limits of diseases. Today, as it is every year on the last day of February, is Rare Diseases Day and tomorrow, as does every March 1, begins National Kidney Month one of the most common medical conditions. I am one of the chosen who get to experience both up close and personal.

Rare diseases and kidney diseases share more than just the cusp of the second and third months of the year. What makes a rare disease a rare disease changes a little from country to country. In Europe a disease or condition affecting is considered rare when it affects fewer than 1 in 2,000 people. In the U.S. that consideration is extended to those disorders affecting fewer than 200,000 people in total. Either way, that’s not a lot of people for a disease. There are over 6,000 conditions listed as rare diseases by the National Organization for Rare Diseases (NORD) and Rare Diseases Europe (EURODIS) affecting over 30 million people. Meanwhile, kidney disease affects over 30 million Americans alone. Coincidence? Maybe not.

RDDayIf you go back far enough all diseases have been rare at some time. The more common conditions like diseases of the kidneys didn’t become less rare because they affected more people. They became more common as those treating them spoke with others treating similar conditions comparing symptoms, patient histories, disease progression, and constants in presentation. Often when enough data is collected it becomes apparent the rare disease wasn’t as much rare as unrecognized. Treatment options and the responses then get shared, refined, retried, and publicized and the goal shifts from just education and proper diagnosis of the disease so difficult with the rare ones to effective treatment and some day eradication of the disease.

Obviously a disease becoming “common” doesn’t automatically mean we know enough about it to say were well in the way to effectively treating or possibly eradicating it. If it did we’d need far fewer fun runs every weekend. The National Kidney Foundation may not face the recognition challenge like NORD and EURODIS but treatment improvements are still badly needed and 30 million people can attest that eradication is not just around the corner.

NKmonth

Sometimes, whether rare or common, the patient gets lost in the struggle to recognize or combat the disease. The rare disease sufferer often suffers in silence while it’s “clear” to his and her friends and coworkers that it’s all in his head or she just complains a lot. The End Stage Renal Disease patient “fortunate” enough to be able to still work is made to feel guilty that he might be a little slower on the day after dialysis even though he got a whole half day off for it, or that she never wants to take a real vacation, just a weekend here or there when she can work it around her dialysis days.

If you know one of the 30 million people with a rare disease or one of the 30 million people with kidney disease or maybe one of each or one with both take some time today and tomorrow to learn what they go through, what they need, or how you can help. If you feel generous, a donation to one of the hundreds of organizations looking to educate people on, or advance recognition and treatment of one the diseases affecting your friend can’t hurt.

But if you’re feeling really generous, give a call to your friend and say, “Hi, can I do anything for you today?” That could be the rare treat that really makes a day.

What I Did On My Lost Day

I’m a day late. I’ve been a dollar short for years so that’s not news but the lost day is something I really tried to avoid. I knew yesterday was going to be a potential for not posting so I was going to get something written and scheduled on Wednesday so there would still be some words for you on Thursday. I’m still not so sure why but I felt I should. Unfortunately there was a power outage here Wednesday evening. That’s pretty rare for these parts and I took it as an omen that what I was going to post wasn’t worth the time or energy. I hadn’t given it a thought that my energy provider would have agreed with me so dramatically. Anyway, there would probably still be time on Thursday even considering what I had on tap for me.

Yesterday I had a simple, quick procedure at the hospital. Nothing medical is ever simple or quick but those words are used relative to what could have been. Still it wasn’t quite the whole day lost and I should have been able to write but for a couple issues.

The procedure was scheduled for 12:30 and took about 25 minutes. That should have left a great deal of the day except it didn’t. Here was the actual schedule starting Wednesday evening.

Wednesday
6:30pm – dinner
8:00 – consider a hot snack since I won’t be able to eat after midnight.
8:02 – electricity goes out
8:03 – stub toe in kitchen trying to make peanut butter sandwich
8:04 – apologize to neighbor for language
8:10 – find chair in living room, sit
8:11 – boredom sets in
8:45- give up hope of snack, go to bed

Thursday
12:35am – startled awake by lights, tv, furnace, abruptly coming back on
3:05 – return to sleep
8:00 – wake up, throw away coffee made before remembering restriction not allowing food or drink after midnight
8:40 – finally settle on appropriate “loose clothing” per instructions
9:15 – ride to hospital arrives
9:35 – clean up coffee cup and plate from coffee and danish ride has while waiting time to leave for hospital
9:45 – leave for hospital
10:25 – arrive at hoping outpatient registration
10:30 – assigned to room, put in silly hospital gown, stuck for IV, labs drawn
10:45 – wait
11:44 – transported to procedure room
11:45 – wait
12:20pm  – sedated
12:25 procedure (yay!)
1:00 – return to room for recovery
1:02 – first food since Wednesday evening (graham crackers and ginger ale (yum))

BOC1

1:11 – enjoy remaining sedation
2:00 – discharged
2:45 – stopped at pharmacy for prescription
2:46 – wait
3:05 – pick up prescription
3:15 – arrive home
3:20 – nap while daughter makes dinner
4:30 – dinner
5:00 – turn TV on for evening news
5:01 – fall asleep in front of TV
10:30 – wake up and go to sleep

Friday
8:57am – Wake up
9:00 – wonder what I missed for the last day

And that’s why you’re getting Thursday’s post now. This is it. Have a good day.

 

 

 

Dance of the Year

Happy Not Really Presidents Day. Yeah, yeah, I sound like a broken record (under 30s ask a real adult) but there is no such holiday. Never was. Should never will be. I guess the United Kingdom celebrates the Queen’s birthday but does anybody else set aside time for the collective past chief executives whoever they may be. Neither do we. Today is Washington’s Birthday (although it really isn’t, that’s Feb. 22) because he did a bunch of stuff that got this USA started. The other 44 are just hangers on.

If you want a good discount on a car, mattress, or living room furniture, today is your day. If you want to relive my in-depth look at the weirdos who have occupied 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., check out last year’s post. If you want to really celebrate something special, keep reading.

Today is, in addition to a federal holiday, the day after Thon. Thon is the Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, a year-long fund raising effort to combat childhood cancer. The money raised is donated to Four Diamonds at Penn State Children’s Hospital. How much? Since 1977 THON has raised more than $157 million for Four Diamonds. The Four Diamonds fund offsets the costs of the pediatric cancer care not covered by insurance and provides other services such as specialty care for the mental, emotional, and spiritual needs of the children and their families. Research and medical support are also funded by Four Diamonds.

Maybe today should be a federal holiday because of Thon and other student groups across the country. Surely there are other similarly focused almost adults, but Thon is the poster child for these poster children. The largest student run philanthropic organization in the world, Thon has over 16,500 student volunteers participating in the year-long effort and more than 700 dancers took to the floor for this weekend’s 46 hour marathon.

For years, starting every fall, “canners” would fan out across Pennsylvania and beyond collecting coins at business entrances, sporting and cultural events, and traffic intersections. Mini-Thons, alumni, business partners, and “Friends of Thon” have helped but the physical canvassing raised a huge percentage of the total donations. This year was the first when due to safety concerns, canning was officially banned. Instead crowd funding and THONvelopes replaced the corner canners presence. And still they added to the “over $157 million.”

THON2019They’ve raised over $157 million. How much more? Add another $10,621,683.76 from this weekend. That’s short of the $13.4 million record from 2013, and far far less than say the $700 million donated to St. Jude’s Hospital last year but Thon’s overhead is probably a little less also. And you can’t argue that is still quite a total for a bunch of kids just helping out another bunch of kids.

So if you have a few minutes between mattress shopping and you’d like to justify your day off with something worthy of celebration to celebrate, now you do.

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Photo by Patrick Spurlock | Onward State

Acts of Love

Over the last two or three weeks I’ve seen at least a half dozen TV shows and movies that featured a scene where a parent treated a child to a lunch, a shopping day, or some trip or event that ended with the child asking, “Seriously, why are you being so nice to me? You want my kidney!!!” I mentioned this to my daughter on our way out to lunch. She didn’t comment. Hmmm.

If you don’t know or don’t remember reading it, my daughter is one of those being evaluated as a potential kidney donor for me. She didn’t have to be asked and I treated her to many lunches before my body demonstrated a need for spare parts. Likewise are my sisters going through the evaluation process and I’m not sure I’ve ever treated either to lunch, maybe an occasional birthday brunch or holiday dinner but not a random, middle of the day, full on lunch. Even a friend of my daughter has said he would be willing to go through the process when he found out I was in need. And not one of them was asked.

The story is actually one years in the making. I had been teetering on poor kidney function for a few years. The Wegener’s granulomatosis (GPA) had over a dozen years to work on marginalizing those organs. Drugs and diet had been keeping me functional. Unfortunately function slipped to the unreasonable level and I entered dialysis about 2 years after I had been diagnosed and treated for bladder cancer. The rules at the transplant center called for a 5 year cancer free window before I would even be considered for a transplant.

HeartAndKidney

Image: National Kidney Foundation

Everyone knew the date I had been declared “cancer free” and as the 5 year anniversary approached they seem to take for granted that they would celebrate by scheduling donor evaluation appointments for themselves. No bribing needed.

I think of all this today, Valentine’s Day. This is love. Love isn’t a card, a greeting, or a thought. Love isn’t a saying or a feeling. To truly love someone we must do for one. Love is an action. Love is in doing. Love is in the work.

I love how these people are working for me. I know I’ll never been able to work as hard at loving them.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Script Girl

February might be my favorite month. It’s certainly in the top ten. (I can do without March and its schizophrenic weather patterns and August’s unending humidity. The rest are okay.) February is among my favorites because of the Academy Awards. Quite honestly I don’t think I could possibly care less who goes home with an Oscar this year. I love February because of the old winners.

I love old movies and there is no better time to get a fill of them than in the month leading up to the Oscars. Whether your film love is for musicals, thrillers, book adaptations, war, epics, comedies, or tragedies you will find it on a small screen near you in February. February is when movie services and networks go all out to rake in the viewers with past nominees and winners. The good movies. The ones produced before Hollywood decided America needed a conscience and it was the perfect choice. These are the ones you watch and say to yourself, “they wouldn’t do that today.”

Something else about those old movies they don’t do today is the credits. (Hmm. Some things else are the credits?) I’ve bemoaned the state of movie credits before but it never rears its ugly head as much as now when the screens are filled with the elegance of crediting those who deserve credit and not every Tom, Dick, and Harriet who come close to the set or is close to the financiers.

Buried in those early credits is another thing “they wouldn’t do today.” Among the actors, director, producer, editor, cameraman, set designer, and costumer, almost always is “Script Girl.” Sexism notwithstanding, the title was gradually changed to Script Supervisor in the 60s and 70s, long before males entered the role. But for years, and as long as February remains Oscar Movie Month, for years to come, “Script Girl” was how the continuity expert was defined around the world. Literally.

AdmitOneJust over the weekend I was watching the 1974 Best Foreign Language Film winner, François Truffaut “Day for Night.” (Reading maybe as much as watching as my French comprehension was never as good as my high school grades suggested. Hooray for subtitles.) As the credits rolled (before the movie as they should be) after the acteurs, among the équipage, and before the producteur and the réalisateur was “Script Girl,” just like that, en anglais, capitalized, and in quotes.

And what does this “girl” do. At one time she or he, although then it was almost exclusively she would be the director’s secretary and would record information about how of each scene was shot, prompt actors, and often write notes to be used in publicizing the movie before it’s release. Today the Script Supervisor also keeps notes of wardrobe, props, set dressing, hair, makeup and the actions of the actors during shooting to assist the editor in maintain continuity during and between scenes. Thus when the hero enters a scene with a half full cup of coffee it doesn’t turn into a can of ginger ale 24 seconds later in the final cut.

I’d love to stick around longer and talk about old movies but there’s only 17 days left to February and my DVR is filling up. I have to catch up on some classics today.

To Tell the Truth

I hate liars. Everybody tells a little fib now and then. (That’s the best cauliflower rice dough pizza. You can’t even tell it has no gluten, cholesterol, fat, calories, taste, or appreciation for a life worth living.) But outright “I know this is blatantly false and I’m saying it only because I want to trick your ass” falsehoods are just wrong. And professional lying like done by every politician and used car salesman since 1959 is the worst.

Those professional liars are getting really good at it. Much of their lying is so subtle we don’t even recognize it as not true. Take the word “free,” a perfectly good word. I think if you ask anybody what the word means you would be told “enjoying personal liberty as in freedom” or “given without cost.” Lexicographers would differ. Well … not so much differ as embellish, just like the liars. Dictionary dot com list 40 definitions for “free,” Cambridge English has 24, Merriam Webster 20, and even the venerable OED lists 14 definitions of the word. That’s why people can take a perfectly good word like “free,” put it in front of another word like “shipping” and feel justified telling you how much it will cost to ship your purchase if it doesn’t meet a minimum amount spent.

The local supermarket where I do most of my grocery shopping has taken to telling the truth. I must tell you, it confuses me sometimes. If you join their loyalty program you get a weekly e-mail offering some incredible value at not just a ridiculously low price but almost always free. A couple weeks ago this deal was a case of their bottled water for 49 cents. This week it’s a can of Coca-Cola for free. And they really mean free. Not with the purchase of another can. Not with a minimum total spent. It’s free. You go into the store, grab a can and take it to the checkout lane where someone will scan the can and scan your loyalty card, then the cash register will total up $0.00 and off you go. Of course they hope you buy something else but you don’t have to. Free means free.

exchangeAnother perfectly good word is “exchange.” This word even has the dictionaries agreeing there is little room for ambiguity. “An act of giving one thing and receiving another (especially of the same type or value) in return” is the number one definition in the Oxford English Dictionary, and except for references to where stocks are traded and a short conservation or argument, every reference to “exchange” is pretty much the giving and getting of something similar. Our general use of the word confirms that. Next week, if next week was fifty years ago, elementary school kids across the country will hold a “Valentine Exchange” at school and everybody gives and gets happy heart shaped cards. (Who knows what they do today.) Just a couple months ago at Christmas time you may have participated in a “Holiday Gift Exchange” at work when to keep in the spirit of exchange a dollar amount was stipulated. Even businesses know that to be an exchange a transaction must be of equal value. Gold and jewelry exchanges all over swap fresh money for old gold at a specifically noted “rate of exchange.”

So when I got a card in the mail from the local Chevy dealer saying it was time to exchange my 9 year old Malibu for a new one I rushed right over!

[sigh]

 

 

 

But It’s Just One Day Off

Somebody figured out that 17 million people did not go to work today (Monday, Feb. 4) in the US specifically because of the Super Bowl. Maybe they had over-celebrated the winners. Perhaps they were overcome with despair for the losers. Maybe they were replaying their favorite commercials on YouTube. Or they were just big immature babies and felt they needed a day off because of the killer hangover from a 9 hour tailgate party.

Seventeen million people are a lot of people to call off at one time. The current American workforce stands at about 154 million. That means 11% of that group just blew off their responsibilities for a football game. Not to play in one. Not to go to one. Not to watch their children in one. But to recover from one. No, not to recover from playing in one. To “recover” from watching one.

That’s dedication. (Sarcasm!) I hope they remember today three months from now when their request for extra days off to extend their upcoming vacation is denied. Or six months from now when they try to turn a Tuesday Fourth of July into a five day weekend and are docked for having already used up all their sick days for the year. Or ten months from now when their Christmas bonus is light, or non-existent. Or next week when the bosses figure out they did just fine with 11% fewer people.

BWings“You mad?” you say? Sort of. More disappointed about what people have come to think is important enough to put their welfare at risk and not just by taking an extra day off. The average super bowl party host will spend as much as the average American family spends on Thanksgiving but mostly on chicken wings and beer. About 1.3 billion chicken wings were consumed Sunday, washed down with 325 million gallons of beer. Some of that beer found its way into people with a history of bad judgement around alcohol. Drinking violations by repeat drunk drivers ordered to stay sober jumps an average of 22% on Super Bowl Sunday, compared to usual Sunday violation rates. The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) puts Super Bowl Sunday among the deadliest traffic accident days with other “holidays” like Cinco de Mayo and St. Patrick’s Day.

Super Sunday? Sorry. I don’t see it. But I almost took today off. Fortunately I had a good talk with myself and convinced me to post today anyway. Now everybody go on and get back to work. The other 89% can’t keep it up without you forever.

 

Groundhog Day. Again.

With Groundhog Day approaching I was certain I could count on welcoming an early spring. Gobbler’s Knob in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, home of the master prognosticator Punxsutawney Phil, is just a hair over 90 miles from my front door so the weather isn’t much different. I don’t have Phil’s innate forecasting power but I could do a reasonable imitation of him by crawling out of my home and looking for a shadow and we would be working under the same sun. Well, naturally it would be the same sun but you know what I mean.

Anyway … I was certain I could count on Phil not casting a shadow because I am certain he is smart enough to stay inside in weather like this. For the past two days I woke up to -5° temperatures. Not fit weather for man (that would be me) or beast (Phil, of course). Then this morning I heard on the morning weather guess (they like to call it a “forecast” but we know better) this Saturday we will be waking to temperatures in the 30s. That’s above freezing! In fact, if you are to believe the amateur prognosticators, Sunday temperatures might be in the 50s, Monday close to 60, then the back the teens and 20s by Tuesday. This is a week after days that never got out of single digits followed by a couple 60° afternoons then this latest foray into sub-zero land.

freezerI think everybody in the world (except San Diego) can honestly say “if you don’t like the weather just wait a day, it will change!” but this is ridiculous. It’s also not uncommon. Without trying to annoy the climate change crowd or those who feel climate change is a socialist plot, the world is not made for stable weather patterns. It’s a not quite spherical orb spinning at a not quite constant speed on a tilted axis while revolving around a not consistent heat source on a not quite regular ovoid orbit. If you don’t believe me I give you from prehistory the Sahara Forest, from modem tourism the Great Lakes, and from calendar makers’ nightmares throughout time leap year.

But forget the long range consequences of our planet hurtling through space with the surefootedness of a vertiginous ballroom dancer. We feel earth’s uncertainty every day. Every single day sunrise and sunset happen at a different time. And not even consistently. Every. Single. Day. Seasons “officially” change on a different day every year. We can’t even figure out how to divide a year into even proportions. We say there are 12 months in a year but they are of three different lengths. We say there are 52 weeks in a year but then ever year starts on a different day of the week. We say there are 365 days in a year yet there’s that leap year thing going on.

So in the midst of all this terrestrial and celestial turmoil we put our trust in a furry woodland creature to tell us if we should plant the corn early this year. Eh, he has a better track record than the guys getting paid to do it so why not?  But if those hotshot weather forecasters are wrong about Saturday morning and we wake up to -5° again and Phil wants to stay in, let him take the day off. Spring will get here even without him. Eventually. We’ll just not be sure exactly when but then why should this year be any different? It’s already different enough anyway.

 

 

Shopping Math

It was the approaching the mid 1960s and I was nearing third grade in elementary school. Rumors began circulating around town that the school would be moving to “New Math.” We who would be the beneficiaries of such a momentous shift saw it as a bright star in the heavens of learning. Particularly those of us with older siblings who would gleefully taunt us with “wait till you have to learn long division!” Ha! We showed them. Arithmetic is dead. Long live new math!

Yeah, well, that’s why I spent 25 minutes in the toilet paper aisle Sunday afternoon trying to decipher Ultra Strong Mega Rolls and come up with the best buy for my cash challenged paper products budget. I might have once aced the exam on the difference between a number and a numeral but that didn’t help while I was trying to mentally multiply 348 sheets times 9 rolls divided by $9.45 all the while having visions of bears singing about how wonderfully clean their charming toilet tissue makes them feel.

tpIt doesn’t help that there are no federal guidelines for bathroom tissue roll sizes. Double, triple, giant, mega, mega plus, and super were the adjectives in use in that aisle but even when used by the same brands, the same moniker did not represent the same number (numeral?) of sheets per roll. One package of Mega Rolls boasted 308 sheets per roll while another claimed 348 sheets per roll. Double Rolls had either 148 sheets or 167 sheets. None of that made it easier to figure out if 9 rolls for $9.45 was a better value than 12 rolls for $11.45. New math said “x is greater than y when the intersecting sets represent the lesser value of the total compared to the greater value of the sum of the variable(s) represented by the equation,” but old arithmetic said “Hold on there, Baby Bear. That’s not just right.” (If you are trying to follow along without a program, although everybody used it as a basis for comparison, I never found a roll claiming to be “Regular.” Not a good thing not to be amidst all that toilet paper.)

By the time my daughter entered third grade I was happy to see basic arithmetic had returned to the school curriculum and I could look forward to having help balancing my checkbook. Unfortunately even old math was not her passion and anything other than straight addition, subtraction, or division by ten was, though not a challenge, not actively pursued as a Sunday afternoon diversion. And so, now these many years later, I was left standing in the toilet paper aisle pondering if I would rather have “ultra soft” or “ultra strong,” whether the shape of the package would fit in my closet, and finally just going for the greatest number of sheets per roll figuring that equals the fewest number of times I’ll have to change the roll on the holder.

Satisfied I made the most logical if not the most economical choice, I checked my shopping list for the next item up. Hmm. Paper towels. I have to start shopping with a calculator.

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Memo to self: Rerun this if stuck for a post on August 26, National Toilet Paper Day. Really, August 26, not the first Tuesday following the first Monday in November. Who knew?

 

 

And The Wait Goes On

It’s time to bring you up to date with the kidney search. Okay, now you’re up to date.

Seriously, not much has happened since my last update other than the donor pool continues to march (swim?) (you know – pool, swim. okay, I’ll stop) toward completing all the required tests.

Actually, that is reportable. Three candidates are all moving along but are at different stages. One has completed all of the required steps and is waiting for the transplant group to review everything. One is awaiting a test date for the final step. One has one last test to complete before moving on to the final step.

So, everybody is through, near, or approaching the “final step.” What is it? It’s a CT Scan of the pelvic area including the kidneys and surrounding structure. If a candidate gets that far and nothing has derailed the process, the transplant surgeons will use the results of that scan to determine if the potential donated kidney exhibits any obvious defects that will disqualify the donor, which kidney would be harvested, and if the surgeon would need to consider any special procedures for retrieving the kidney.

So it’s been a while since they started the process and all are getting close to completing it without being disqualified. Yay! But it has been a long time, over five months, since that first phone interview. It’s not like in the movie where somebody holds up a sign at a hockey game that says “Need a kidney, Call me!” and the following scene they are being wheeled into the operating room.

What have I been doing while all this is going on? Other than my regular dialysis sessions, as I reported in my last Transplant Journey post I had a new fistula fashioned. Unfortunately, the central venous catheter that was placed so I could have dialysis until the fistula is healed, hopefully sometime next month, failed and I had to have a new one inserted the day after Christmas. I also hope to be able to report sometime next month that at least one potential donor has been cleared and we are awaiting a transplant date.

Until then we keep going on with our lives like nothing remarkable is going on. When you stop to think about it, other than I actually got basil to live indoors so far this winter, nothing remarkable has is going on. Yet.

——

Transplant Journey Posts

First Steps (Feb. 15, 2018)
The Next Step (March 15, 2018)
The Journey Continues (April 16, 2018)
More Steps (May 31, 2018)
Step 4: The List (July 12, 2018)
Step 1 Again…The Donor Perspective (Sept 6, 2018)
And The Wait Goes On (Oct. 18, 2018)
Caution: Rough Road Ahead (Nov. 19, 2018

Other Related Posts

Walk This Way…or That (March 9, 2017)
Looking Good (May 18, 2017)
Technical Resistance (May 25, 2017)
Those Who Should Know Better (July 24, 2017)
Cramming for Finals (May 3, 2018)