I've Got a Donor!

I've got a donor! I just can't convey how hopeful this makes me. A week ago I was so discouraged, so incredibly fed up with dialysis that I was seriously considering having the tubing removed, halting dialysis, and having a month or so of life without dialysis before I died of organ failure. I just felt I couldn't stand it any longer. I was so tired, so incredibly tired of being sick. Sick all my life, and so incredibly weary that I didn't think I could stand one more day of it, one more moment.

I railed at God or Archangel Michael or whomever may have been listening that I was tired, that I was either going to see some movement or I was exiting. Well, I got some movement today.

My nextdoor neighbor Janet had volunteered to be a donor back in July of last year, after knowing me for only a month, perhaps not even that long. I had been touched by her offer, as I had been touched by my friends Tim, Helene, and Roger, who had also offered but who were not suitable candidates--Tim and Helene because of blood type and Roger because he smokes.

At the time of Janet's offer, she didn't know her blood type, and I was a long ways from getting on the transplant list. I'm still not on it, but I am doing so well in cardiac rehab that I just can't see any reason why my echocardiogram at the end of the month won't just be perfect. Since the condition of my heart was the only thing that was holding me back, if that's in good shape, I should be a shoe-in.

Well, Janet got her blood tested last week, and she got the results today. She's A+, and I'm O+, so we're not a match. But she is willing to be a paired donor. That means that I will be paired with a donor who wants to give to someone he/she cares for but is O+, and the person he/she wanted to donate to will receive Janet's kidney. The surgeries are done simultaneously to prevent someone from receiving a kidney from a stranger and then the other donor backing out of giving his/her kidney to the designated stranger.

Since Janet is a teacher, she wants to have the surgery performed in July so that she would be recovered and ready to return to classes in the fall. One would think that would be completely doable, given that it's five months away. But the way things drag along with the transplant process, the coordinator said that's cutting it close. Here are the steps that must be taken to make this come together (not necessarily in this order):

* UCLA finds an O+ donor for me and an A+ recipient for Janet.
* I pass the echocardiogram on Feb. 26 with flying colors.
* Janet spends two days at UCLA having tests done on her--cancer screenings, HIV testing, psychological workup. She passes all the tests.
* I get a mammogram and a PAP smear. They're fine.
* I meet with my Kaiser cardiologist, and he approves me, based on the echocardiogram.
* I meet with the UCLA cardiologist on March 2, and he approves he.
* The UCLA transplant team puts me on the wait list. (I have to be on the wait list even though I have a designated donor.)
* Janet and I both go to UCLA to be evaluated by a social worker, who basically wants to make sure that Janet is doing this of her own free will and is not being paid to donate her kidney.
* Everyone agrees on a transplant date.

So, there's not all that much that needs to be done, it's just that I have to be asseertive at moving things along. Last year, for example, I was told that I would have to wait five months for an initial appointment with UCLA. I said that was unacceptable and so was granted an appointment a week later!

Please keep this entire process in your prayers. See me getting a perfectly matched donor and see the surgery date in July being agreeable to all. See everything progressing smoothly.

Oh, God, when you know there's an end in sight, almost anything is tolerable. What wasn't acceptable was dialysis until the end of my days. But now I see a path and an end to all this that has been weighing so heavily on me.

Dogs Truly Have No Shame: The Case of Rasputin the Poop-Eater

Rasputin ate poop! I was walking him last night when he stopped, as he often does. I thought he was sniffing around or maybe munching on some grass as dogs sometimes do. But no, he was eating a turd!

As soon as we got home and I washed my hands, I googled "Why do dogs eat poop?" An enlightening article popped up. It appears that there are a great many reasons why dogs eat poop, though, unlike Rasputin, it is generally their own poop.

First off, the condition is known as coprophagia. Some of the more endearing reasons are that the dog is trying to keep its environs tidy or that it is mimicking the behavior of its owner--she picks up poop, so the dog wishes to do the same, only it does not have a plastic poop bag or a pooper skooper to do the job, only its mouth. The latter is known as allelomimetic behavior. Another cute reason: Dogs are just naturally curious and will put pretty much anything in their mouths, including poop, just to see what it's like.

More practical reasons include hunger or getting only one meal a day rather than having it split over two meals. Also, the dog may be eating cheap dog food that does not contain the minerals it needs. Sometimes dogs eat poop because they're bored, lonely, stressed, or wanting attention (bad behavior gets their owners' attention). The following reason makes me think dogs are sometimes smarter than we think: If they are punished for pooping inside the house, they may eat their poop to destroy the evidence. Some young ones are just experimenting, like teenagers with booze and cigarettes. And just like teenagers who see their peers engaging in aberrant behavior and feel they should too, some dogs observe other dogs eating poop and so want to give it a whirl. Some dogs mistake poop for low-quality food. In short, they think they've just found more of the same of stuff they just ate from their food bowl.

And my favorite reason: Some dogs just like the taste of it.

Really not sure which of these reasons applies to my pooch. It sure can't be that he's lacking attention. And he gets high-quality food.

My theory: He's a little queen, and queens need some sort of psychological problem.