Michael had his 3rd fistula surgery Wednesday. For those of you not well versed in dialysis and all that stuff, a fistula is where they graft a vein and an artery together in your arm, to be used as a dialysis port. He's had this surgery done twice before in the last month, and neither took. Both times the graft clotted within 12 hours of surgery.
This time, however, the brilliant vascular surgeon figured out that all these years of Michael donating blood to the Red Cross had created scar tissue in his veins, and thus wasn't allowing the first two fistulas adequate blood flow. This guy moved the fistula to a different area, used a better artery/vein combo and voila....we feel the thrill (the vibration you literally feel under the skin of his arm, feels like rushing water) and we can hear the bruit (the sound it makes in the arm) through a stethoscope.
Yes, I have a stethoscope. Yes, should be scared. No, you cannot borrow it for "dress up night".
Nurse Ratched, at your service.
So yeah, finally we have a working fistula. I can't tell you how excited that makes us. Of course, getting there was fun....
Michael had to start dialysis in a hurry (a fistula takes 6-8 weeks to mature for use) so he had a chest cath put in. That kind of sucks to have two tubes hanging out of your chest. So here's that:
Then he went out and
shaved his head like he's in the Army got a hair cut:
You can imagine my surprise. I'm getting used to it though. And one of my gay friends pronounced him as "hot" with the haircut, so clearly it's a hit in that circle. LOL Besides, now he and Jordan look like father and son...well, if Michael would grow a handlebar mustache.
That's my and my favorite kid on Mother's Day. I'm still trying to figure out exactly when he got taller than me?
Anyway, back to the Kidney Khronicles:
So this week, we went to get the third fistula, and Michael was pretty bored with the entire process.
But afterwards, he felt pretty good, and we were happy to go home.
So right now we're just waiting for a bunch of us to get testing started a donor matches. God willing there is a transplant in Michael's near future.
If you're O blood type and wanna save a life, call me. Email me. Fax me. Text. Instagram. Facebook. Smoke signals. Whatev.
Oh, and there is no blogging without a picture of my granddog....
Mora turned a year old on April 28th. And I love her to pieces. And believe me, she is Grandma's Girl.