some dialysis treatments go smoothly. then, some dialysis treatments go the opposite of smoothly.

lately i've been showing up to treatments too heavy. between treatments (which are three times per week, three hours per session), i'm allotted to gain 2 or less kilos. well, my foodie behind has been gaining far more.

for instance, my last treatment i gained a devastating 5 kilos! this was over a two day period, but still... and what happens when that happens? more fluid has to be removed.

and the risk of removing too much fluid not only can be deadly, to my understanding, but the immediate side effects, rather unpleasant, to say the least.

i get dialysis Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday starting at 4 am. usually by 4:30 am i am sound asleep. when i drift off, my husband goes to the car and naps himself (he works from home on my treatment days).

when i'm asleep, i'm asleep. and i'll sleep until treatment is over if comfortable.

normally my treatment is over by 8 am. lately i've been waking in intense pain or discomfort by 7 am (which gives me another hour to suffer through whatever because i must stay hooked to machine until treatment ends).

discomfort can be varied, if not all of the following: headache. nausea. hot flashes. urge to have a bowel movement. feeling faint. rapid heartbeat. cramping - mild to intense. i can go from moaning to actually screaming in agony from the muscle spasms that can be in one or more muscle groups -- usually my legs to all over muscle spasms at one time (while hooked to the machine via two huge needles in my left arm and a blood pressure cuff on right).

blood pressure drops at this time - think this is part of the vaso-vagal reaction [google symptoms to confirm] usually technician gets an IV bag and immediately returns removed fluid back into my body - which means, i'll go home, still heavier than i should be. feeling swollen - perhaps needing to come back the next day (on a nondialysis day or try to remove more fluids next treatment day).

through all the discomfort, usually i have at least 45 minutes left of treatment. the pain, indescribable. honestly, at these grueling times, i wish they could just instantly put me to sleep.

it's humbling. you can't fake strength and discipline at this time. if no one knew you were present on this day, they'll soon know different once you or they leave. i'm sure my screams are audible enough for the entire unit can hear. but at that time, i don't care. what others think and feel about who/what they think i am is the last thing on my mind during this hour or so.

in the dialysis unit i'm assigned, the demographic is mostly non-english speakers. a higher elderly population. and a mild to high percentage are really sickly (like i once was back in 2014/2015). so, having a lengthy, substantive conversation before, during or after treatments is mostly non-doable. i usually acknowledge others with a pleasant smile or a wave. rarely do i have a lengthy dialogue, which is okay. the experience, my reality - it is what it is.

but one thing i noticed (and am grateful for), everybody recognizes pain. no matter the language barrier, the culture, the whatever. pain is pain. thus, compassion is universal.

and this is proven every single time i'm humbled by those vicious muscle spasms. i just want to die in those turtle minutes, seeming like days.

if my husband is not present or ineffective if/when present. others come to my rescue. yes, there are technicians and nurses assisting me, but also too. there are guest of other patients coming ~ w/concern. *the pain i experience may have been someone else or could  be anyone at any hour.

mind you, at this painful time, i'm calling on ALL THE GODS. even my mother (whom i know wouldn't spit on me if i were on fire). i'm like, "oh god, someone please help me. momma!" over and over and over and over and over again, between screams. "please, help" i beg.

meanwhile, there's some stranger, non-english speaker at my feet. massaging where it hurts. helping or instructing my husband on what to do. typically my husband has one leg and some other person has the other.

all while i want to stand or walk around, but i can't. have to stay inclined in the comfy, pink, cushiony dialysis chair and deal with it. except what seems like some undeserved, nefarious punishment from something wicked with the power to inflict severe pain even on the innocent (or close to innocent).

once the episode is over all i can do is be gracious. say "thank you" over and over again, best i can. language difference is varied so it's not like i can find one non-english way to express my sincere appreciation.

but just like pain, gratitude is universal.