So you can imagine my disappointment when the flow stopped after four liters. We did everything ... repositioned me, withdrew the needle slightly, tilted the table. Dr. Liver's assistant simply couldn't get the flow to start again. I felt like an idiot, because I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. This was exactly like what happened last time, and it was frustrating to think I'd go home with so much fluid left inside of me again.
Dr. Liver returned shortly thereafter though, and pulled the needle nearly all the way out. The flow started again, but it was only a trickle. And so I lay there for an hour and a half while another four liters trickled out. Grand total? Eight and four-tenths liters. The physical and emotional relief were overwhelming.
I spoke to Dr. Liver for a while about my dropping MELD score. He surprised me by being totally candid about the MELD. While he's implied before that he didn't like the system, he came right out and said it this time. He doesn't like it, his fellow physicians don't like it, and if he had his way I'd have been put into ICU when I was first diagnosed last August, and I probably would have had a new liver in a month or so. He then grumbled that it made no sense to have to wait until a patient was going into kidney failure before they qualified for a kidney.
Uh, say what? Taking a second look at the lab tests they use to calculate MELD scores, I can see exactly what he's talking about. I don't think I like where this is leading, though. So, like Scarlet O'Hara, I think I'll just worry about it tomorrow. I don't feel like thinking about this any more this afternoon.
On a more upbeat note, I've discovered a really good liver failure support group on the web. They've got a plethora of message boards to post on, and have regular chats scheduled Tuesday afternoons and Wednesday evenings. I won't be able to do the Tuesdays, but I intend to drop in this Wednesday night and introduce myself. I look forward to talking to people who are going through the same thing I am. With luck, it will relieve some of the mental pressure that's been building up in me lately.
I don't want to be living my life as a potential liver recipient. I want to live as normally as possible, and have that be just an extra descriptor that someone might use when describing me. Lately though my mind seems to be obsessed with my liver, and it isn't healthy. Having a place to talk freely about this mess once a week may help put things back into perspective for me.
In the "Adding Insult to Injury" department, I complained to Dr. Liver about the incessant itching I was still having on my abdomen, even after using the antihistamines he'd prescribed. He stopped, looked at the rash that's been spreading across my tummy like s spreading pink and white ink stain that flakes when it dries, and pronounced "Looks like eczema." Well, now that he mentions it, it sure as hell does look like eczema. It runs in the family, but I always thought I was exempt from that particular family curse. It would appear that my fickle skin was simply waiting for the worst possible moment to announce its susceptibility to me.
Oh well, I've got three cats sunning themselves in my computer room, and the sun is warming my back quite nicely as well. It's cold out, but a beautiful day none-the-less. Spring is coming, I only have a four day work week, and I have the rest of the afternoon to rest up and do as I please. Let's face it, even when things are crappy, life is still good.