I'm 45 years old this year. It looks like a daunting number when I stare at it; it's even more daunting when I think about the fact that I've spent nearly 21 years of my life living with End Stage Renal Disease. Almost my entire adult life - and the fact that I was diagnosed with this disease at a time when I was trying to build the foundations of my life, and find my way... it's made it incredibly difficult. I thought I was building my future for many years, and I started my own business and was supported by my family. But it was difficult to do that while navigating this disease, and even more difficult when my transplant failed and I went back on dialysis, and a few years later when my marriage ended.
I got a third transplant in 2020, and I had a lot of hope riding on that - that I could rebuild my life again with that, post marriage, and get back on track again. But that transplant ended up being more trouble - as it began having troubles almost immediately after getting it. I spent almost three years watching it slowly fail... it's hard to build your life and career when you're sick all the time. So here I sit, 45, on dialysis again, trying hard to make sense of my life and how I'll take care of myself and my family. I just feel like I'm starting over... again, and I don't really know if I will make it this time. It's a scary thought. I'm trying to deal with it the best I can, but it's hard.
I struggle everyday to be a good father to my kids, and I think that's the most important thing to me. But it's hard now - making a living to provide for them, while have limited physical and mental resources due to my illness... ugh. Such a struggle. I'm trying. It's hard for me to admit these fears, bit I think writing them out like this helps. I don't even know if anyone reads this stuff, but the words help me. Words have always helped me - I've enjoyed writing all my life and I think it's nice when anyone reads the things I think. Sometimes what I say isn't always what I write either; perhaps I'm more confessional in the printed word. I'm scared - I'm scared I didn't make the mark in life I wanted, I'm scared my time is up, and I'm scared I'll leave my kids with just legacy of sadness. I hope I have more years with them.
Tomorrow is my son's 8th birthday. I cannot believe it's been eight years since he came into my life and changed it forever. I know so many parents say things like this, but this is my truth. I didn't know if I could ever have kids, and to have one, let alone two, has been nothing but a miracle and they literally both showed me something I didn't really know I needed or wanted. Being a father has been my favorite experience in this whole shebang - and I've done a lot of stuff! But their presence in my world has enchanted me in ways that everything else just did not - and I'm addicted to that feeling. And now I'm in the worst way I've ever been - death is such a real possibility for me in a way I've never been afraid of before; I want to be here for them. I don't want to miss a thing. We don't often confront these things as we go on our business day to day, but it's all I think of when I wake and when I lay myself down alone at night to sleep. How am I so old, yet so young to be sad at a possible early exit?
I do hope I can get another transplant. Or maybe that robotic kidney they've been working on for decades will actually work. Sigh. Also, I could use a win on the lotto. Couldn't we all though.
Hope the season finds you well, if you're reading this. Take care.
