On our own

The nurse and the social worker just left.  I was sure that social worker had it in for me but apparently not.

We have been sufficiently interrogated, analyzed, judged and trained.  Our house was deemed livable and sanitary.  All of this for some tubes and meds.  People are allowed to have children with less scrutiny.  I may send a judgy little social worker in their direction.

Now we are just here by ourselves with this machine and all of this equipment and bags of solution and a ream of instructions.  I think we are expected to actually apply everything that has been crammed into our brains over the last few weeks.

Erik had to set up the machine while they were here.  I opted to sit downstairs and work instead of participate in the great home dialysis kick off of 2014.  When I said I was done learning I meant it.  Plus, if I learn how to do it I will no doubt watch Erik then point out what he is doing wrong or just not quite right so I decided not to even open the door to that conversation.  He is welcome.

My bedroom looks like a hospice ward.  Not the end of the world, I know, but still my bedroom looks like a hospice ward.  

The first new cute but not quite the right color thing with cute cubby holes and little baskets was too high for the machine.  We bought a new one that is much shorter.  And still doesn't match.  Deep breaths.

I had this vision of the tubes in my head and pictured this big huge suction tube type thing running through my room.  Like an air vent tube.  Probably influenced by my ongoing obsession with The Boy in the Plastic Bubble.  Apparently I was just being dramatic because the tube is not nearly as visually traumatic as I pretended it was going to be.  It's the little things that get me through the day.

We will see how this goes tonight.  I am a light sleeper.  I half jokingly said that if this whole process wakes me up or if the machine beeps I will absolutely put a kink in the tube.  I need my sleep people.  The happy mama happy household mantra is no joke around here.

Wish us luck.  Actually wish Erik luck, you know, since I chose not to pay attention to the training today.  

Exhibit A

Note the trash can.  I just noticed it and yelled what the hell is this?  Apparently when you miss training you miss out on some rule where the trash can - which is only for the massive amounts of garbage that will be produced every morning when every bag and tube must be thrown away - must be right by the table.   I'm moving it.  

Exhibit B

The tube.  Not quite as trauma inducing as previously thought.  


Important Addendum:  Included in the medical supplies is a blood pressure taker thing.  Erik just asked me if, for fun, I want to take my blood pressure.  Ummmm, I'm staring at non matching furniture, a dresser covered with medical supplies, a garbage can in the middle of my room and a tube (albeit not the obnoxious tube I envisioned) running 22 feet from my bedroom into the back of the bathroom, and am faced with changing my side of the bed for the first time in 24 years.  Do I want to see what my blood pressure is?  Are you seriously freaking kidding me?  I don't need some help I've fallen and I can't get up type of alarm going off if I use his equipment.  I usually get over all freak outs after about 10 minutes so we'll try the blood pressure for fun thing tomorrow.