Hi again

I thought I’d write again but I apologise as it’s a bit off the subject.

When I was ill I know that my mother, Gwen blamed herself because the illness came through her side of the family. I have never blamed her at all and although I sympathised, I don’t think I ever really understood how hard it was for her to watch. Come to think about it, I didn’t really understand how difficult it is for anyone to be on the sidelines when someone they love is going through this trauma.

Gwen had an accident when she was a kid and broke her pelvis – as a result she had to have a kidney removed. When I was told that I would have to have a transplant we looked at my dad for the transplant (my brother is all lined up for the next one!!) but it never occurred to me how crushed she would feel not even being able to offer. I remember meeting a man in the Lupus unit who had donated his kidney to his wife, a year or two later he had been diagnosed with Lupus and needed a kidney transplant – what are the chances?! My heart went out to this poor man and his wife – she must feel terrible that she has his kidney but I bet he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. When I told the story to Mum she said she totally understood! I had never looked at our situation that way.

I have a puppy with chronic renal failure. He is 10 months old and it looks likely that we will only have him for a few more days and I feel terrible. Working very closely with the vets (and having so much knowledge on kidney failure) I have done everything possible to help him and we are now out of options short of putting him on a drip – the dog version of dialysis. I have always said that I wouldn’t wish dialysis on my worst enemy but now I find myself considering it for my darling puppy. So I think we just have to wait until he doesn’t want to carry on and make that most horrible of decisions. I feel so dreadfully responsible and guilty that for me there was a transplant and for him there is just death. But speaking to my dad about it he just said “he’s a dog, at least he’s not your daughter”.

I know that one day while I was on dialysis, with peritonitis, in hospital I decided enough was enough and I wasn’t going to come back. I was perfectly at ease with my decision – not scared or upset; I just thought I would go to sleep and that would be that (I was very glad and ashamed of myself in the morning). I just hope I recognise that in little Mojo and let him go when he gets there.

The point I really wanted to make is that I certainly don’t think of my friends and family enough – actually I don’t let them help or get involved because I don’t want to trouble them or “put them through it” but actually maybe they need to get involved so they don’t feel like spectators.

I’d like to wish lots of love to all the spectators, supporters, hecklers and distracters in my life!!

Tx