Tales from the Bed

In the Christmas and New Years vacation time in 2002, I became ill with a Vasculitis disease. My kidneys failed and I was in the Landstuhl hospital until they sent me to a teaching hospital that specialized in treating kidney diseases.

A Vasculitis disease, which is starting to gain publicity from Harold Ramis’ death, is an extremely hard disease to diagnose because it mimics several other diseases. Vasculitis is an auto-immune response that cuts off the small, medium, or large blood vessels to various organs. In my case it cut off the blood vessels to my kidneys, which caused kidney failure. I was lucky to gain 50 percent of my kidney function back. A friend of mine had the blood vessels to her lungs cut off, which caused some of the lung tissue to die. Young and old, male and female can get this disease. Because of the difficulties of diagnosing the disease, many people have it for years before they are given the right medication to get it under control. Many sufferers die before they are diagnosed properly.

I spent almost five weeks in a hospital bed in Germany as the doctors diagnosed the disease. To help me to survive much of the pain and side effects of the disease and meds (meds for this disease at the time were Cytoxan and prednisone), I became an intrepid reporter, reporting about the strange tribal doings of nurses and doctors in this community. I would write a couple of paragraphs and my husband would post it to my family.

So after that introduction, here are a few of the “Tales from the Bed” written when I was using half-a-brain.


Blood-sucking Nurses

Confirmed – by this fearless reporter that nurses are real bloodsuckers. No kidding, the first day my nurse drew 20 tubes of blood. Yesterday, she was down to four tubes.

Reminds me of those Canadian mosquito stories that Grandpa Bagley used to tell. You know the ones. The mosquitoes would carry unsuspecting campers into the woods as an evening snack.

Signing off from the Edge of the Bed


To brave the wilds of dialysis and ‘hemo-freeze’; this reporter had to be outfitted with an input device. Be not dismayed or fearful. The creature with tubes sticking out of her neck is not Mary Shelly’s monster come to life, it is this reporter with a new nickname – Franken-cinnie.

Signing off from the Edge of the Bed

Dialysis vs. Hemo-Freeze

IT has come to the attention of this reporter that her audience does not understand the difference between the two procedures of dialysis and hemo-freeze. At the risk of sounding pompous and intellectual, this reporter believes that the real differences in the procedure is how one feels afterwards.

Dialysis makes one feel warm and fuzzy with the need for a good long sleep. Hemo-freeze is like being force-fed ice cream for 2 1/2 hours – a major brain freeze.

Signing off From the Edge of the Bed

Full Service

Angels tremble where this reporter treads… Yes, even this reporter trembles at the thought of full service – I.V., monitors, urethra catheter, and blood pressure cuff.

This reporter is back to self-service and liking it.

Signing off From the Edge of the Bed

Just the Facts

In getting the facts to you, the public, this reporter has not always consistently checked her sources. But in the great tradition of yellow journalism and the current news programs, she will not worry about getting you the facts right – just the facts right NOW.

All criticisms to this reporter can be sent via the ‘do-do bird’. She’ll reply immediately.

Signing off From the Edge of the Bed

There are more From the Edge of the Bed– if you are interested just leave me a comment.

8 thoughts on “Tales from the Bed

    • I have survived eleven years of the disease– which makes me a real survivor. I hope to survive many more. Thankfully my hubby has helped to keep my humor intact. Without him I’d just be a cranky lady.

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