Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Inner Virtue, Outer Hell

I often wonder if I don't deserve my fate.

Believe it or not, I wasn't always this caustic.

Five years ago before this ordeal began, I was hopeful and virile, yet ankle deep in my own naivety. Friends were plentiful and women responded to my company on a regular basis.

But layers deep, fettering and gaining strength, were the shadows. Recesses of darkness buried under mirth and merriment. I was aware of their existence, but they were under control.

When they would manifest, I would immediately quash their actions and attempt to bury them even deeper.

I was embarrassed, ashamed of their very existence. The pride I held in my personal strength was probably the beginning of my fall.

It took sheer force of will to maintain my composure, but they wanted acknowledgment, something I could never offer.

In the end, that was probably my Achilles heel, the beginning of the end.

Sometimes swallowing what we wish to hide from the world can devour us from within.

And that's exactly what happened.

Dialysis saw this coming and giggled in glee at my impending journey.

Weeks upon weeks upon weeks of endless treatment have left me a shell of the man I remember. When this reality focuses in my mind, sadness seeps outward from the recesses of who I used to be.

And it can't be stopped.

Joyous exuberance for daily adventures has been replaced with a vitriol against everything and anything within my scope.

My name has been replaced with terms I never thought would reference who I truly am.

Contemptible. Incorrigible. Curmudgeon.

I'm all of the above, and still, just a little less.

I can't be called "Stacy" again until Dialysis releases its grasp on my life.

Unfortunately, it seems like that day will never arrive.

1 comment:

  1. Dear E-Less,
    Have you considered switching to peritoneal dialysis? I switched to PD 14 months ago and it's changed my life. No, I'm not dancing in the streets with joy over being a non-pee-er. But hey-I pretty much eat and drink whatever I want, without being stupid about it. Last night it was homemade chili full of tomatoes and beans. When I know I can get away with doing something formerly "naughty", it's a small victory over ESRD. I also don't have to count my fluid ounces. No more post-treatment crashes; no needles; no cramps; no Chair; no moaning, drooling gurney-guy in the corner. When I go in for labs once a month, I see those people in those chairs and, depending on the day, think to myself either "Suckers!" or "Poor Schmucks!" I don't get why more people don't try PD. If it doesn't work, switch to HD. It's not irreversible.

    Talk to me, I'll tell you whatever I can about PD. If you've covered this topic elsewhere in your blog, then excuse my ass for giving a crap.

    briar6454@yahoo.com

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