Paddling upstream

After last summer's excitement of the Grand River Expedition my rapids spilled into quiet waters.  The camaraderie, active schedule, renewal of old friendships and the creation of new ones and the daily sense of accomplishment I received paddling with sixty other river enthusiasts created a palpable kinetic energy.  Even though I was tired at the end of each day and had to dialyze, I felt a sense of renewal, of purpose and of who I once was.  My first job at the Clinton River Watershed Council was to canoe its length and observe its condition from the headwaters in Waterford to its confluence with Lake St. Clair.  I was young, excited, and on the water getting paid - pretty much a riverdude's dream job.  As with all good gigs, the Expedition ended.

The Grand River's rhythm established a beachhead on my soul.  From enjoying limited excursions the year before,  I now craved the feeling of sitting in a boat and paddling upstream with Buffett's Far Side of the World cruising from my Blackberry to my brainstem and down to the peripheral nerves in my toes.  Upon reaching the upstream point where I had to turn around in order to finish in time to get my children, I maneuvered the kayak downstream and let the current bring me slowly back to reality enjoying the eddying of the current as I slipped over the rocks.

While I continued to enjoy the Grand River on my own, I changed the social dynamics of my life.  Since Jacob was now a Boy Scout I no longer was a Cub Scout Den Leader.  I chose not to continue in my role as Marble's Yearbook coordinator and since Andria was no longer the Parent Council President I no longer was its number one go to volunteer.  I resigned as a Board Member ofDialysis Patient Citizens.  While I believe it is a good organization with a dynamic staff I just wasn't feeling a connection with my fellow Board Members.  Also, while I loved the trips to D.C. - roaming the halls of the Cannon Building in search of Mike Roger's office, sitting in John Dingell's Rayburn Building Office and watching him take a meeting with IBM representatives as his handlers handed us over to a policy aide, strolling past the Capitol en route to the Hart Senate Office Building to talk to Debbie Stabenow - which sparked life in this aging political science major, I tired of becoming entrenched in the dialysis industrial complex.  I believe that true recovery from kidney disease is when one has restored the passions enjoyed before the onset.  I didn't want kidney disease prevention to become my new identity.  However, I found that without the structure of these volunteer endeavors I was rather rudderless in my pursuit of happiness.

Each day I thought about sitting down and writing but by the end of the day a home improvement project, grocery shopping, children shuttling, or dinner making had absorbed my time.  So while one close friend landed a new job and another found his way back on Broadway I just lived day by day.  Living in the moment is not easy for someone who has been a planner all his life.  To ease my frustration as I lay in bed connected to my dialysis machine, I recalled that my major goal in life that I set in high school was to wake up with Andria in my arms.  With that in mind, I suppose anything else is gravy.

As Christmas drew near, interesting things began to happen.  A carpenter who was working on our basement noticed my Fresenius boxes and asked me about dialysis.  His wife was on dialysis and not doing so well in center while using the catheter in her chest.  Apparently she just cancelled a meeting with a surgeon that day to discuss putting in a fistula.  I showed him my fistula and we discussed home hemodialysis.  Later in the week I found out that his wife had rescheduled and attended her consultation.  She was now planning on getting her fistula.  I then received a call from a fellow All Saints parishioner.  She was concerned that a local surgeon had botched her son's graft placement and inquired whether I knew about Michigan Vascular Access Center (little did I know at the time that I would soon be a patient there).  We talked at length about the situation and about connections I had at U of M.  While it wasn't much, I was there for her and her son and I think she found solace in our call.  A short while later, my regular postal carrier knocked on our door and handed me a $50.00 bill for the National Kidney Foundation of Michigan.  He said that he and his wife were touched by my efforts and wanted to make a contribution.  I was floored by his kindness.  Talk about out of the blue.

My wife and I attended the Christmas Party at her law firm.  At one point during the dinner I presented the president of the firm with a copy of Our Grand Journey:  Discovering the river we thought we knew with an inscription thanking the firm for their generous contribution and support for the last ten years.  Later that night during the white elephant gift giving the president and his wife, who own's Yesterday's Toys in Laingsburg, donated a couple of toy ping pong ball guns which were spontaneously raffled and raised $80.00 for the NKFM.  Over the holidays a couple of more donations from friends came in the mail.  Just recently I received a check for $115 from the employees of Spectra Laboratories, the place I send my monthly blood samples.  Spectra was already a corporate donor to Paddling on Dialysis for Kidney Health but to find out that their employees raised money on their own was surprising and delightful.  While I may have removed myself from actively lobbying policy makers and separated from the dialysis industrial complex, I am still able to make a difference on a more personal scale which is very gratifying.

I recently found an editor for my book.   I'm hoping this will add some current for my rudder to take hold.  Perhaps a good "hard to starboard" will help me regain the helm and set a course to finish Amos.  As I write, I will continue to grocery shop, make dinner and shuttle Jacob and Antonia because that is my true dream job.  I will also be there for those that I can help as we each make the most out of living with kidney disease.  And, as soon as my new graft that I received from the good doctors at the Michigan Vascular Access Center heals and the temperature rises a good bit above the current ten degrees I'll put a boat in the Grand and paddle upstream.