“The Big ‘C’”: A Different Meaning for Me
The machine beeped noisily as it slowly turned on. The nightly routine had now begun— the bags had been opened, the solution was warming, and the tubing was priming. Five minutes later, the monstrous mechanism that sat on the nightstand read, “Connect yourself”. And I watched from afar as my mother, donning a mask, joined the tube on the machine with the tube coming out of her stomach.
Drain 1 of 4…Fill 1 of 4…Dwell 1 of 4…Drain 2 of 4…the cycle repeated over and over again, for eight hours straight, until an obnoxious tone startled those who had since fallen asleep. My mother’s dialysis was finally over…until tomorrow night. And this had become her life; relying on a machine to stay alive.
“The big ‘C’”…when used medically, the phrase almost universally brings to mind the word “cancer”. Cancer is a horrific disease in itself. My grandmother died from it. But to me, the phrase brings to mind “chronic kidney failure”. It’s a disease my mother suffers from; one she had contracted months before it was ever diagnosed, yet she hadn’t known it.
The symptoms were easy to attribute to other, more common ailments. The back pain—part of getting older. The bad taste in her mouth—needing to brush her teeth more. The feeling tired all the time—working too much. She had no idea that her kidneys were being destroyed by an invisible attacker.
The point here? There was little literature about her condition readily available to her. Sure, you would find information about kidney disease at any decent nephrologist’s office. But at the time my mother needed it most, it wasn’t somewhere she could see it in everyday life.
Last year, I saw advertisements for cancer screenings, sleep aids, arthritis medications, pain relievers, cold and flu medications, erectile dysfunction, overactive bladder, depression, high cholesterol medications, diabetes, and Alzheimer’s disease, just to name a few. There was nothing about kidney failure. Not a word.
My mother’s condition was preventable. If someone, a year ago, had sat her down and told her that her kidneys were shutting down, she could have done something about it. She could have changed her diet, gotten more exercise, and taken medication. But she never got the chance.
WebMD has an application called the “symptom checker”, which allows you to input the problem you’re having and view the possible causes. While this feeds the worries of many hypochondriacs, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if the American Kidney Foundation ran an advertisement (or infomercial) on television every now and then explaining the symptoms of kidney disease. Maybe a page or two about it in a popular magazine wouldn’t be a bad thing, either.
The diseases that are the most treatable are the ones people can see. For example, Americans go to the dermatologist if they see psoriasis developing on their skin. They go to the dentist if their gums appear inflamed. But many irreversible conditions are silent enemies, with very few or easily dismissed symptoms. Using “snail mail” or e-mail to spread information about these silent enemies would be a good thing as well. Although many would dismiss it as junk mail or spam, it may catch someone’s eye just as it sails into the trash. It may save a life.
The thesis of my argument isn’t confined simply to renal failure. I know of kidney disease only through personal experience with it. There are so many conditions that affect Americans daily that you and I have never even heard of. But without the literature, there’s no hope of us ever knowing about them. Spreading the word is the best people like me can do, but it seems to not happen often. I have learned more about the workings of the kidneys and their dysfunction in the last six months than I ever thought I would know. I have told more people about my mother’s story than I can count. Hopefully, it will make a difference to someone, someday.
It’s too late for my mother. That machine on her bedside will be working tonight and every night after. But in all honesty, it doesn’t upset us anymore. We now have the opportunity to spare someone else from what we went through. However, I hope that a community (such as the American Kidney Foundation) with more public outreach than I could ever dream of having takes the suggestions of people like my mother and I and tries to save someone from any virtually unknown disease. Someone. Anyone. Because that’s all that really matters.

It’s for a full-ride scholarship I’m applying for. What do you think? And please, if you’re one of those people who has to act like a big deal on Yahoo! Answers and tear down everyone’s work even if it’s good, don’t bother to answer. Thank you! Ten points!

I’ve been to the ER, and they just tell me to see my family practitioner, and I can’t do that because I have no insurance and can’t afford to pay up front right now.

Has anyone else dealt with this problem? How did you handle it? And what can I do about all this chronic pain???