Day One of the Torture Test
Didn't think that would be an option by this time tonight, but so far so good!
Today started abit badly, we got up late (John's excuse? The alarm clock didn't take me seriously after I hit snooze the fourth time....) then the mad rush starter ... and ended with us calling the clinic 5 minutes before showtime to let them know we were really, truly, honestly still coming. (Hint- never try to drive over 30mph if your spouse has her heels firmly implanted in the ground)
After arriving and donning the lovely paper gown ensemble' , the technician came in to inject me with "isotopes". (Translation- big, hunking needle that was as big as the palm of my hand). Then I was left to sit, alone, to ponder my fate for over an hour while the "isotopes" meandered to my heart.
67 minutes and several bouts of nausea later, we went in for the test.
In a nutshell? Big, white, stark room with big ugly machine. Leering at me. I swear to you I heard it laugh at me.
Like James Earl Jones.
he he he he .... come here my pretty!
Wait- that was the Bad Witch from that Oz flick.
Well, anyway- it was mean looking.
First you lay down. Then they strap you down at the knees and hips. Darn.
Then the fun part- they have you put your arms together over your hear and behind you- then put a pillowcase over them to your elbows to immobilize you fully.
Yeah- regular Six Flags kinda fun.
I was then rolled in the machine completely for four excruciatingly long minutes- the pulled out to my neck (freedom, ceiling tiles, things to breathe on!!!) for 18 minutes while this thing revolved around me in intervals.
Prayer works. All of you helped so much.
Two reasons- I only had one full blown panic attack (you know crying, whimpering) and that was before I got on the machine. Secondly, the technician who did the IV sat with me the whole time since he said he had nothing else to do and talked me through the 18 minute rotation - "here comes the enclosure, close your eyes .... ok, it's clear- open them and look straight up".
That man deserves a medal. Or at least chocolate. His wife is a lucky, lucky woman.
John poured me into a huge hug at the end (since they did not let him come back) and then took me right out and bought me the biggest Iced Tea, with lots of lemon, he could get me.
I love that man.
So- tomorrow is Part Deaux.
I have to do the treadmill for 20 minutes, then back to the machine for 20 minutes.
Then, it's over.
I have been inundated with comments and email and e-cards today. Thank you everyone for all your support.
I am reminded daily by God that this is a blessing, a pleasure and the friends I have met and developed relationships with, TIRL's with, are no less important in my life than any other valued relationship I have.
Thank you everyone for your support as we take one more step towards transplant.
And Life.
Today started abit badly, we got up late (John's excuse? The alarm clock didn't take me seriously after I hit snooze the fourth time....) then the mad rush starter ... and ended with us calling the clinic 5 minutes before showtime to let them know we were really, truly, honestly still coming. (Hint- never try to drive over 30mph if your spouse has her heels firmly implanted in the ground)
After arriving and donning the lovely paper gown ensemble' , the technician came in to inject me with "isotopes". (Translation- big, hunking needle that was as big as the palm of my hand). Then I was left to sit, alone, to ponder my fate for over an hour while the "isotopes" meandered to my heart.
67 minutes and several bouts of nausea later, we went in for the test.
In a nutshell? Big, white, stark room with big ugly machine. Leering at me. I swear to you I heard it laugh at me.
Like James Earl Jones.
he he he he .... come here my pretty!
Wait- that was the Bad Witch from that Oz flick.
Well, anyway- it was mean looking.
First you lay down. Then they strap you down at the knees and hips. Darn.
Then the fun part- they have you put your arms together over your hear and behind you- then put a pillowcase over them to your elbows to immobilize you fully.
Yeah- regular Six Flags kinda fun.
I was then rolled in the machine completely for four excruciatingly long minutes- the pulled out to my neck (freedom, ceiling tiles, things to breathe on!!!) for 18 minutes while this thing revolved around me in intervals.
Prayer works. All of you helped so much.
Two reasons- I only had one full blown panic attack (you know crying, whimpering) and that was before I got on the machine. Secondly, the technician who did the IV sat with me the whole time since he said he had nothing else to do and talked me through the 18 minute rotation - "here comes the enclosure, close your eyes .... ok, it's clear- open them and look straight up".
That man deserves a medal. Or at least chocolate. His wife is a lucky, lucky woman.
John poured me into a huge hug at the end (since they did not let him come back) and then took me right out and bought me the biggest Iced Tea, with lots of lemon, he could get me.
I love that man.
So- tomorrow is Part Deaux.
I have to do the treadmill for 20 minutes, then back to the machine for 20 minutes.
Then, it's over.
I have been inundated with comments and email and e-cards today. Thank you everyone for all your support.
I am reminded daily by God that this is a blessing, a pleasure and the friends I have met and developed relationships with, TIRL's with, are no less important in my life than any other valued relationship I have.
Thank you everyone for your support as we take one more step towards transplant.
And Life.
Labels: Transplant
posted by Kelli at 9:41 PM
6 Comments:
Continueing to pray for tomorrow, too, Kelli. Hang in there. You are written in the palm of God's hand and I pray He upholds you through tomorrow's test also.
Okay,okay, so whew, Kelli. Whew! You're good.
So. I'm holding my breath here, but, girl, you're good. See? Day #1 is done.
Easy for me to say, I know, but I'm sooooo relieved you've reached this point. At least you're going to get some answers.
Kelli, you have no idea how hard I'm praying for you.
Love you,
xoxoxo
Transplant is closer now than ever. I am so very, very excited for you at the potential of a "new" life!!!
Hang in there and know I am continuing to pray!!!!!
Glad you made it through day 1. I'm still praying!
Praise God!!! He does hear and answer prayer - and maybe sends angels in the form of technicians. We continue to lift you in prayer as you go through this process. I have a niece who is also waiting for a kidney transplant - but that's a long story.
Get a good night's rest. We're praying.
What an ordeal! Loved your writing about it! WHen my hubby told me about it, it was much less information, just headline's ya know?
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