So, there I was, in the ICU, with this weird new "port" in my chest, hooked up to a machine and watching my blood flow out of the body, into the machine, and back into me.
I've had weirder moments.
I did start to feel better, though. It took several days, but eventually, my senses seemed to come back. And it felt like everyone in the world had come to see me. Which was really amazing; I'd been very sad and depressed in the weeks before I was diagnosed; I began thinking that my friends and family didn't care for me. One tends to develop a very negative view of the world and of one's self when they're as sick as I was - so to see such an outpouring of caring was amazing. It really bolstered my spirits and I often think of that time today when I need a pick me up.
I spent about a week in the ICU, and then I was released. How do you go home after that? Everything changed; yet, I had a good feeling about things. At least I knew what was wrong with me now. I had returned to college the previous semester, but dropped out towards the end because I was missing too many classes - I was always sleeping, or feeling too lousy to go in and my studies suffered. I was really upset about that because I'd really wanted to do well in school upon my return. Because of my medical condition, the college accepted me back for another semester. I decided to go, because I would keep my health insurance if I was still a student. So, I started doing dialysis in center, three days a week (on Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays) and going to school on my off days. It was a crazy time - I think I just kinda flew through it on auto-pilot; it all seems like a whirlwind. I can't even remember all the classes I took.
Though all of this, I learned how to be a dialysis patient - which isn't fun at all. I also learned just how much parents will go through and sacrifice for their children. From the beginning, my Dad worked hard to get me back on my feet. Now he was determined to donate a kidney to me - only, I wasn't sure if I wanted it....