Life after renal failure
Leinanyana Tsiane | Friday August 5, 2016 12:18
When the doctor broke the news that my diagnosis indicated chronic kidney failure, I thought he was playing a crude, cruel joke and would surely say the remedial words: “just kidding”.
However, I soon realised that he was not joking at all. Chronic kidney failure?
My troubles started towards the end of last year (2014) when I began experiencing one difficulty after another. At first, I found that I was always exhausted for days on end but just assumed this was because of the Gantsi heat.
Then my feet started swelling so badly that I could not wear closed shoes and had to settle for sandals. The issues did not stop there however and very soon I began to suffer from shortness of breath and could barely walk five metres without stopping to catch breath.
I have since lost count of the number of times I visited the hospital during that period. I was a regular at Gantsi Primary Hospital and every time the doctors told me something different.
For instance, I was once told that all the signs represented the symptoms of a dilated heart and another time, I was told they were the complications of diabetics, which I have lived with for 15 years.
To make matters worse, I began to experience high blood pressure which was becoming ever more troubling with each visit to the hospital. I was either given new medications or my dosages were increased, but nothing helped.
On December 29, when the rest of the world was preparing to welcome 2015, I visited the hospital again after falling sick again.
My blood pressure was found to be high and the doctor admitted me on the spot. All the time when I was in hospital, my blood pressure did not go down and a fresh new symptom appeared: I started vomiting and was unable to eat anything at all.
Eventually the doctor conducted blood tests to check my kidneys and my worst nightmare began.
The results came and I was told that I had renal failure. Immediately, millions of thoughts raced through my mind. How long do I have on the Earth? How am I going to die, painfully or not? What about my children?
It never occurred to me that I could possibly regain full control of my kidneys or that dialysis could help me.
The doctor immediately booked for me to see the nephrologists at Princess Marina Hospital in Gaborone and stressed that I should not waste time. The look on his face said it all. The condition was far more serious than I thought.
When I got to Marina more blood work was conducted and when I presented the results to the nephrologist, he looked at me and said: “You have start to dialysis immediately”.
Now what is this man saying? First, I am told I have renal failure and now I am being told that I have to start dialysis immediately.
Dialysis is a process for removing waste and excess water from the blood. It is used primarily as an artificial replacement for lost kidney function in cases of kidney failure. To me that was the double blow. I did not want to hear or even understand what the doctor was saying. I went home and did not dare break the news to anyone. Instead, I wallowed in self-pity.
Many questions floated into my mind and honestly, I did not have the answers. I did not cry at all that night, although I tossed and turned the whole night. What do I tell my children? I had no idea of how to break the news. In the morning when I woke up, my eyes were swollen from lack of sleep and misery was written on my face. It took all my strength to face the reality of informing my children about my condition.
They somehow took it well and gave me the support I badly needed. I was admitted to Marina for doctors to start me on dialysis. I found myself seated in a lounge waiting to be called for counselling and while there I met three men who were on dialysis too.
This trio kept on talking about how bad “peritoneal dialysis” was and how they intended to sue the government for forcing them to do it instead of “haemodialysis”.
All of these were strange medical terms to me but the way the men carried on completely changed my mind about my planned procedure.
For the record, haemodialysis uses a man-made membrane to filter wastes and remove extra fluid from the blood. Peritoneal dialysis uses the lining of the abdominal cavity and a solution to remove wastes and extra fluid from the body. Debates continue about the advantages and disadvantages of both.
Anyway, when I was eventually called in for counselling, I told the nurse in no uncertain terms that I would not be doing any dialysis. She kept questioning me on the source of my change of heart, but I was evasive and would not divulge my “sources”.
However, I finally relented and told her about the lounge conversation. The nurse advised me not to listen to what people say but rather do what’s best for me. Her words encouraged me and I agreed to the procedure.
I was told a catheter or silicon tube would be inserted into my abdomen, to enable the dialysis. “So you are going to open my abdomen?” I asked the doctor and he simply replied: “Yes.”
The procedure was done at the Minor Theatre and the two doctors who performed it were so much at ease and obviously skilful, giving me confidence in their abilities. They gave me an anaesthetic and chatted with me about my job, everything and I answered enjoying the painlessness.
After the whole procedure was done, one of the doctors told me to walk to the ward which I did although the anaesthesia was starting to wear off and the pain was making an unwelcome appearance. I swam past the nurses at their desk as if I did not know them and went straight to my cubicle where I was “zonked” until late afternoon. Four days later, the nurses started teaching me how to dialyse because the wound on my abdomen had to be given a few days to heal. But bad luck struck as my exit site (where the tube comes out) started to leak. This meant stopping the dialysis and allowing a few more days for the healing. That, in turn, meant a few more days in Marina.
I mastered how to do the dialysis all by myself and was anxious to go home because I had stayed in the hospital longer than I had expected. When I was discharged, the hospital gave me numerous boxes of the water that I would use to dialyse and believe me, that on its own is depressing as it brings the reality home. I soon adapted to it however.
I will be forever grateful to the hospitality of the doctors and nurses at private ward who made me feel at home. They were a friendly bunch who were always willing to answer all my questions.
Renal failure is a condition that really requires the patient to take time to deal with. At times, I find myself short-tempered! One needs to be prayerful in order to survive the ordeal.
The experience is harrowing and I hope and pray that my kidneys return to normal because the experts say this can happen in rare cases.
Born in 1967, Leinanyana Tsiane joined Radio Botswana at the then Department of Information and Broadcasting in 1989. During her tenure, she was a continuity presenter, producing a number of programmes such as Manana, Inola and other special programmes. After joining the department she went for further studies at the Institute of Mass Communication (Harare Polytechnic) in Zimbabwe where she graduated with a Diploma in Journalism. During her service at Radio Botswana she was often assigned international trips for presidential coverage. In 1998, she was transferred to Mahalapye to work as a reporter, and later transferred back to headquarters in Gaborone. Leinanyana also worked at The Mirror newspaper and later joined Mmegi as a freelancer based in Gantsi. She is survived by four children, two boys and two girls as well as two grandchildren. May her dear soul rest in peace.