Hi there! If you're new here, my husband has Chronic Kidney Disease, and we're both learning how to deal with this weird avalanche of related and unrelated crap that goes along with it. If you've missed any part of this adventure, you can catch up here:
When I last checked in, his eGFR was around the mid-60s, and he was adamantly refusing a kidney biopsy. We made a deal with Dr. L to just maintain for the next few months and come back in January to check his numbers. I was mad at him, and heartbroken that he wasn't seeming to take this seriously, and I just kind of mentally shut down.
All caught up? Okay, let's go.
Also, there were multiple times where he fell asleep on the toilet, being in there for 20-30 minutes until I realized he was still in there and I had to check on him. At first, it was a little funny, but then it got really worrisome. Because of this, he'd either get to work late (and have to use Leave to cover the missed time), or just not go in at all. Things got back to "normal" around Veteran's Day just to suck again, when our cat got sick and eventually passed away mid-December. That really threw a wrench into the time between Thanksgiving and New Year's and both of us just let ourselves do whatever the hell we wanted... Lots of fast food for dinners, lots of junk food, no gym or parkrun, skipping blood pressure checks, not taking meds; really just a few weeks of Fuck It behavior.
He was supposed to follow up with Dr. L on January 7th, but because of this Fuck It behavior, we requested to reschedule to February so that we could get back on the wagon, so to speak. Dr. L didn't seem too happy about that, but was able to find an appointment for us.
At the beginning of the year, he had some unplanned time off (hours getting cut for many employees), which worked in his favor a bit, since he'd wanted to take some personal time off anyway. Unfortunately, he was battling bouts insomnia and heavy sleeping again! I can't wake him up, it's frustrating as hell, it's scary, and it's just making me mad. Near the end of the month, he had a scare, with unknown chest pain that he thought might be a heart attack (it wasn't, thank goodness). Because he'd taken a number of days off (he was back on the work schedule at this point), he had to put in for another Leave of Absence, which meant that he had to wait for it to be approved before he could go back to work, even though he was fine and okay to work (this procedure is so stupid). So, whether he really wanted it or not, he got more time off, and I got more stress, having to figure out how to pay bills and keep the household afloat with no paycheck coming in for weeks and weeks and weeks.
In the beginning of February, he had another bout of... gastrointestinal issues (we all know what that means, right?) I had picked up a Publix cake and made tacos for dinner on February 8th to (belatedly) celebrate my 18th year quit, and both of us suffered from "hot snakes and bubble guts" all night.
This came again and again for him over the next 5-6 days, with his troubles being worse than mine. We still hadn't gotten any paperwork for his LoA, which sucks! Last time we did this, the paperwork showed up almost immediately, so where the hell is it now?
Mid-February, he said to hell with it all and planned to go back to work; if they kicked him out, they kicked him out, but maybe it would prompt HR or Sedgwick to do something, right? But then the morning of the day he wanted to go back, another week with upset stomach! Mostly he'd be fine all day long, sleep fine, wake up fine, get ready for work, but then get stuck in the bathroom for 45 minutes - which would make him late for work (and since he was already on such thin ice with the stupid LoA problem, it didn't make sense to go in to work), so he'd stay home again.
February was just this never-ending rollercoaster of shit and sadness. At one point, I wondered if the gastro issues were due to Publix cake. He had issues (including nausea & vomiting) back in September, right around my birthday, and of course, I get Publix cake for my birthday in September... I hope it's not, because I love it, but not having the poops is a lot more important than having cake!
On February 21, we met again with Dr. L, who seemed, I don't know, content, with Hubby's progress. She stressed again about eating right and exercising and drinking water. We shared with her the information about his gastro issues and the chest pain; she said that the pain was most likely Costochondritis, inflammation where the ribs meet the sternum. And that inflammation could be a sign of an autoimmune disease, something that she has yet to rule out for him, since he does show some positive test results for unknown autoimmune diseases. She again brought up the kidney biopsy, and while he kind of side-stepped the entire issue, he didn't shut her down. But she wants his blood pressure to get down (and stay down) in the normal 120/80 range, so she didn't push him on the biopsy. She upped one of his blood pressure meds and told us to come back in April.
We went down to Tampa for Gasparilla and when we came back, he was ready to head back to work; he still hadn't gotten anything from Sedgwick (well, a confirmation email back in January, but that's it), and he was tired of waiting. And, unfortunately, that's when shit hit the fan...
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