Skip to main content

The Dating/Waiting Game

My sessions with My Lovely Pyschotherapist prove to be an ongoing source of helpful advice and insight. I spent an hour with her earlier this week and talked at her solidly for the duration. We breezed over my feelings about my illness and apprehension about my upcoming birthday (3rd on dialysis, 18 months on the waiting list, concentrated feelings of loss uh huh, yeah, whatever) and moved on to the prevailing and far more interesting of my love life.

Or should that be, lack of love life. Anyone unlucky or stupid enough to have answered the phone when I rung any time over the last couple of months will be aware that I have managed to get myself tangled in a tricky situation with My Housemate: we were seeing each other until quite simply we were not, and within that space of time I developed feelings for him which I am now trying to shake off like a dog with flees. It would all be fine if I never had to see him again, but he resides in the bedroom next to me and I tried walking around with my eyes closed but I kept bumping into stuff. My Lovely Pyschotherapist has totally taken my side over the whole affair, which is brilliant because there is no greater feeling than when an impartial stranger affirms that your ex is, in fact, a dick. I tell her I miss him and that I'm finding it hard to get over him and she tells me that this is all completely normal and I have done an excellent job to get to this point. How far this is exactly true is negligible, but it's always nice to be told that you are, essentially, awesome.

After I gave her an update on the situation with My Housemate, the conversation expanded to a discussion about relationships in general. We had been talking about how waiting for a kidney imbues you with a sense of powerlessness because you are reliant on someone else in a distant place to make things better and you have no control as to how, when or where this will be bestowed upon you. My L.P. suggested that waiting for a kidney is thus very similar to waiting for a relationship: you can go to all the singles nights you want, but essentially you are relying on someone else to pitch up in your life and confirm they find you as attractive as you find them and bring you some unsolicited happiness. I have learnt the hard way that other peoples' opinions, thoughts and predilections are entirely un-quantifiable and even if they tell you, there's every chance they might be lying anyway.

It was an insightful analogy and it got me thinking: is waiting for a kidney just like waiting for a man? I have a minimal amount of control over either situation; both will ostensibly improve my life but also have the ability to drag me down below the Plimsoll Line.I am waiting just as much for someone with a compatible sense of humour to sweep me off my feet as I am for someone with a compatible blood type to give me a kidney help me get back on my feet. They are entirely unforeseeable and yet I retain faith that both will happen eventually. I have had good and bad experiences with each in the past, so perceive them as tangible and realistic outcomes.

They say relationships come along when you are not looking for them, and in this vein, waiting for a kidney has definite similarities; it's not that an appropriate graft will suddenly come up because I am preoccupied, but in order to be happy, I have to learn to be content now, within the boundaries of my current situation, and not simply wait for it to be over before happiness descends upon me. In an ideal world...well, in an ideal world I would look more like Megan Fox than Mossup from The Riddlers and Dermot O'Leary would be chained to my radiator. But in a slightly better world, I would have a working transplanted kidney and me and My Housemate would not be falling asleep with a wall separating us. Unfortunately, whilst that world does exist in my head, it is not the one in which I actually live and I want to be happy in this life. It has taken seventeen months of waiting on the list, but I have stopped waiting for a kidney. Admittedly, it is hard to relinquish this control and simultaneously retain the belief that it is really going to happen; of course, there are moments when I feel it never will. It is like believing in God. It is Belief in Things Unseen.

There are things one can do to improve the chances of meeting a man, as bilious as they may seem: singles nights, accepting impromptu invitations and dating websites to name a few. The actions I can take to up my chances of getting that illusive kidney are more limited, but there are definitely things that will put me in the best possible position for when it does come up: I could stop smoking, drink less and get more sleep. I could also do with worrying less. Now if I could just stop thinking about My Housemate, I won't be waiting for anything.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Postscript

You wouldn't believe where I am. You could guess, if you've seen the gratuitous images of my self-satisfied gurning face in front of an infinity pool on Facebook...otherwise you might find it hard to imagine the paradise in which I currently find myself. I am in Dubai. Bar Abby Clancey and the cast of TOWIE, is is not everyone's idea of paradise - it actually wasn't mine. It is exciting, exotic and fucking hot, but the skyscrapers and traffic, the desert and cultural  deficiency (not to mention the chavs that clutter up the Ritz Carlton these days, I mean honestly...) suggest you'd be hard-pushed to call it paradise. It is vaulted to utopian heights simply because, four-months after the transplant, I am here. My nearest and dearest suffered for seven years as I dreamily aired my wanderlust. Yet the reward of a post-transplant holiday seemed too extravagant a prize for which to yearn - wasn't a life free from dialysis enough? Wasn't having a drink when t...

The nights are closing in

The final step of my home dialysis journey (bleugh, journey...sounds like I'm on The X Factor) begins on the 22nd July when Nurse Carla will arrive with a sleeping bag and, presumably, some strong coffee, and sit on my sofa all night whilst I perform my first nocturnal session. It is the dialysis equivalent of hiring a wet nurse. During a regular daytime session, nothing should go wrong unless I have lined the machine carelessly with one eye on Only Connect and consequently forgotten to connect/un-clamp/tighten something pivotal. Dermot should behave, stay quiet and not do any of his ghastly alarm-yelping. At night, however, the chances of rolling over onto the tubes and occluding the blood flow, or the needles falling out and slowly bleeding to death, are much higher, what with all the concurrent sleeping I'll be doing; when this happens Dermot senses DANGER and screams at me. Undoubtedly, my first session with Carla will be seamless; I know from experience that it is only ...

The phone rings Part III: The Final Chapter

Two weeks ago today, I was in surgery receiving my new kidney. The hospital kicked me out in less than a week and over the last seven days I have divided my time between the transplant clinic and my sofa, with the occasional shuffle up to Sainsbury's to ensure the muscles in my legs don't atrophy. I've had the pleasure of a steady stream of visitors, all of whom have bought me yet more wonderful and totally unnecessary gifts – I have been royally spoilt and I am stupidly grateful to all of you. The kidney itself appears to be going great guns. I was initially attending clinic on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and was committed to doing so, but the hospital are so pleased with me they are happy to start seeing me just twice a week. The pivotal result they test for is my level of creatinine, a substance that occurs naturally in the body as a result of muscle break down. The kidney filters out creatinine through the urine, therefore if there is lots present in the blood it is...