Death and taxes, proclaimed Benjamin Franklin - the two certainties in life. Almost hard to believe that Franklin didn't also give a nod to the peculiarities of dialysis, but since he made his declaration in a letter to his father dated 1738, when the advent of dialysis was still over 200 years away, you can see his reasoning.
I should like to amend Franklin's famous quote to include: monthly bloods. Since my very first dialysis session over four years ago, the hospital have checked my blood work religiously once a month, every month, whether I have wanted them to or not - and most months, I do not want them to. I understand the necessity of monitoring my potassium levels to make sure I'm not about to have a heart attack, or checking my phosphate to confirm that my bones aren't crumbling to chalk, but because I am frightfully busy (Homeland won't watch itself) I never, ever remember when monthly bloods are due, I don't modify my diet accordingly, and consequently my results are always ridiculous.
As I arrived for my session yesterday:
Nurse: Monthly bloods today
Me: (sotto voice) Shit, probably shouldn't have eaten 7 Celebrations and 3 chocolate
bars
It's a carefully contrived monthly ambush, like rent, or my period. However carefully I restrict my diet over the course of the month, monthly bloods always seem to happen the day after I have indulged in a taramasalata binge or thrown caution to the wind and eaten a tomato. If I was just a little more organised I could..."engineer", let's say, a more pleasing outcome and refrain from eating all the naughty foods, at least until the next day. If that sounds terribly alarming and dishonest, may I point out that ALL of us engage in bamboozling the health profession from time to time. Who can honestly say they answer truthfully when the doctor asks how much you drink? How much you smoke? What your blood pressure is, or whether you still need a prescription for the Tramadol you were prescribed after minor surgery to plaicate your fistula two years ago...? When you deal with doctors and hospitals frequently, you get to learn the tricks that make life run just a bit more smoothly: terrible blood pressure reading? Take it sitting down and write it under "standing". Badly over your dry weight after too many mojitos? You'd be amazed how much a jumper weighs. The nurses are happy, which makes me happy, and when I'm happy, my potassium can't possibly be high. Even Benjamin Franklin couldn't argue with that sort of logic.
I should like to amend Franklin's famous quote to include: monthly bloods. Since my very first dialysis session over four years ago, the hospital have checked my blood work religiously once a month, every month, whether I have wanted them to or not - and most months, I do not want them to. I understand the necessity of monitoring my potassium levels to make sure I'm not about to have a heart attack, or checking my phosphate to confirm that my bones aren't crumbling to chalk, but because I am frightfully busy (Homeland won't watch itself) I never, ever remember when monthly bloods are due, I don't modify my diet accordingly, and consequently my results are always ridiculous.
As I arrived for my session yesterday:
Nurse: Monthly bloods today
Me: (sotto voice) Shit, probably shouldn't have eaten 7 Celebrations and 3 chocolate
bars
It's a carefully contrived monthly ambush, like rent, or my period. However carefully I restrict my diet over the course of the month, monthly bloods always seem to happen the day after I have indulged in a taramasalata binge or thrown caution to the wind and eaten a tomato. If I was just a little more organised I could..."engineer", let's say, a more pleasing outcome and refrain from eating all the naughty foods, at least until the next day. If that sounds terribly alarming and dishonest, may I point out that ALL of us engage in bamboozling the health profession from time to time. Who can honestly say they answer truthfully when the doctor asks how much you drink? How much you smoke? What your blood pressure is, or whether you still need a prescription for the Tramadol you were prescribed after minor surgery to plaicate your fistula two years ago...? When you deal with doctors and hospitals frequently, you get to learn the tricks that make life run just a bit more smoothly: terrible blood pressure reading? Take it sitting down and write it under "standing". Badly over your dry weight after too many mojitos? You'd be amazed how much a jumper weighs. The nurses are happy, which makes me happy, and when I'm happy, my potassium can't possibly be high. Even Benjamin Franklin couldn't argue with that sort of logic.
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