About Me

Me at 6 years old

I'm a true Southern girl.  I grew up in a little town called Liberty SC. I was youngest of 5 daughters living in the house that my grandparents once occupied before my birth.  My dad was a hard-working man back in the day and my mother was a little crazy and exasperated most of the time from dealing with 5 girls and a ton of housework and laundry to keep up with day in and day out.  My sisters taught me more about the practical matters of life than anyone else ever has.  They mothered and babied me far beyond the years of my babyhood.  We were of humble means, but we always had plenty to eat, a roof over our heads and our faith to keep us strong.   We were regular church-goers, never missing a Sunday morning, Sunday evening or Wednesday evening service.  I grew up looking forward to revivals instead of state fairs and thinking Sunday School was the highlight of every week.  It was a great way to grow up.  I suppose I am still very much the same girl I've always been, only a little more wise to the ways of the world now.

Me at...well, older...

My passion in life has always been reaching out to other people who need help.  I truly want t be there for someone who needs a listening ear,  a hook-up with some community resources or just a good friend.  My desire to connect with others and offer my support has gotten me into trouble a few times. I admit, I have gone so far in my efforts to help another person that I have completely lost myself before.  There was a time that I had to regroup--reconsider my own motives in trying to be such a helper.  I've finally figured out that it's okay to feel the need to make a difference in the lives of others, but not to the detriment of myself or my family.  I have chosen to work in a helping profession that I find both challenging and rewarding.  Whether I am working with seniors, recruiting volunteers or helping a new non-profit find its legs, I know I am making a difference in the world and improving myself at the same time.

 Now I find myself in a position of needing help for myself and my family and I'm learning a whole new perspective on the concept of "help."  It isn't easy to ask for.  I feel guilty accepting it sometimes. I feel weak for not being able to help myself.  I realize this is another growth opportunity for me, I must learn to humble myself and accept the kindness of those who love me and want to help me.

How could I not laugh?

  I have this awesome little 7 year-old boy who keeps me on my toes.  He's adventurous, imaginative and curious about the world.  His name is Charlie, unless we are having a serious conversation.  In that case, he is Charles.  Sometimes he is a silly little frog, sometimes a Super-Hero.  Always, he is my inspiration and motivation to keep pushing forward in life.  I want to see him grow up, go on a first date, learn to drive, graduate high school and pursue his dreams. 

Never thought I'd witness this...

I also have two awesomely cool daughters who have grown up to be creative and inspirational in their own ways.  They are both independent thinkers, fearless in pursuing their dreams and confident in who they are.  I am proud of them because they love others with complete abandon--without fear of what might be said of them when they bravely take sides with the "underdog."  They are beautiful, inside and out.  I know they will make a difference in this world in some way.  I feared when they were small, that they would NEVER get along with one another but they are now deeply connected, just the way sisters should be.  I know they are both still very young and have so much life ahead to experience and embrace. I want to be there with them through it all.  It has always been my girls and me against the world and they know I am always on their side.

I fiddle around with playing a guitar sometimes. I like to write about random subjects that always seem to take on some deeper meaning by the time the last line is written, whether I intended that or not.  I am in love with nature and I  try to grow things in my yard but I'm not always successful.   I have a dog who is a crazy mix of sweet and ferocious but I find her cute little furrowed brow irresistible. 
  

Really, I'm just a regular person with all the imperfections and struggles of anyone else in the world.  Right now the only difference is that I have End Stage Renal Disease and am on Peritoneal Dialysis. 

I started Dialysis in July of 2013.  Since then, I lost my full-time job due to the fact that my employer had concerns about my being able to be on dialysis and still work.  I teach an arts and crafts class every Tuesday at a local senior community and do some part-time work with a local non-profit grief counseling center. Thankfully, I was able to get SSDI started this past January, otherwise I would be in a worse financial situation that I am already in.  Most people with ESRD understand the financial struggle, but sometimes it seems as if no one else can really fathom how far-reaching the effects of this disease. 

I'm, of course, struggling to pay the bills, keep up with this new life-style routine that dialysis requires and still be a energetic go-getter of a mom to my youngest.  I am hoping for a transplant and have started the process of being placed on the transplant list.  Maybe I'll even get lucky and find a living donor, which would give me an even better chance of living to see my boy grow up.  Another new development on the front of ESRD research is the artificial kidney which is being tested now on humans as a device that is worn outside the body.  Even better news is that by 2017 an implantable artificial kidney will be ready for human trials.  With a disease like ESRD, you often feel there are no "good" options for treatment, but these new developments give us a kind of hope that no generation of ESRD patients before us has ever had.

I recently started this blog because I have found myself feeling very alone in my experiences with ESRD.  My thoughts sometimes make no sense to people who don't understand, and can't (unless they have it) understand how ESRD changes your life.   I'm not a healthcare professional or therapist or any kind of expert.  I've just found that sharing my own story helps me, and based on some of the emails and letters I've received other people find some kind of comfort in knowing there's someone else out there who identifies with the struggles they face with their ESRD diagnosis.