Freed of a Hopeless Infatuation

For a good part of this year that is ending in a few hours, I was googly about a man who was obviously googly about me. He would frequently lose his train of thought when speaking to me or stop mid-sentence and stare at me or just be utterly confused in my presence. I hadn't experienced that kind of behavior for more than a decade. It was so sweet, so thrilling, so intriguing.

Of course, the cards were stacked high to the ceiling against us: He is 10 years younger than me, he is or was married (halfway through the year he stopped wearing his wedding ring), he and I have a professional relationship, and I'm a dialysis patient. I spent an awful lot of time thinking about him and fantasizing about him during the first 10 months of 2009.

But in the last few months something switched off. I still enjoy seeing him and talking with him, but I realize nothing will ever happen, and with that knowledge has come peace. Now I rarely think of him, and when I do, it's for practical reasons, not to indulge in some never-neverland dreaming.

A few times during the last few weeks, I have returned to an old ritual, talking aloud, as if to a lover, when I bed down at night. And when I went to the movies this afternoon, I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined my love--whoever and wherever he may be--sitting next to me, holding my hand, and smiling. May 2010 will be the year when that man appears in the flesh.

If Only They Would Talk to One Another

Finally, I can begin to see a light at the end of the tunnel. At my monthly clinic visit, I complained to my nephrologist about my weakness, fatigue, drum-tight legs, distended stomach, shortness of breath, and upwelling of fluids into my chest cavity. His solution was to increase the amount of dialysis solution I would be carrying inside me during the day from two liters to 2.5. Well, this sure did not help. Not only did the extra fluid not drain the excess fluids from my body, it accentuated the shortness of breath and oppressive sense of fullness in my diaphragm.

Dr. Mai, my acupuncturist, had been treating me, but could not put needles in my right leg because it was so tight and so painful. When I decided to go back to two liters of solution, Dr. Mai gave me an herbal formula to reduce the swelling. Wow, has it been great! My urination has more than doubled, my right leg is quickly approaching the size of the left leg, and I am no longer plagued by shortness of breath and the oppressive feeling that I could not breathe because of the crowding out of my lungs with the excess fluid.

This is a dramatic example of the need for communication between doctors and alternative health practitioners. Boy, if only doctors and acupunturists could work together on a plan of treatment. Had I continued to follow the Western medical approach and not sought help from my acupuncturist, I really would have been in an awful place. As it is, I am beginning to feel an influx of energy, a lightness in my step.

In large measure, I owe what health and vitality I have to acupuncture. How few dialysis patients are receiving acupuncture treatments. Indeed, acupuncture is not even on their radar screens. I am so thankful that acupuncture is a weekly or even twice-weekly part of my overall health strategy. I would be in sorry shape if I only relied on conventional medicine for help.