I go to dialysis three times a week. I want to live

August 28, 2016
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I go to dialysis three times a week. I want to live

I go to dialysis three times a week. I want to live

“They cut the Prichard bus routes, so I pick up a gentleman who goes to my dialysis clinic and I don’t charge him a dime because he is in the same position I am. He lives over a mile from the clinic and he has to leave at 5 in the morning to walk and get to the clinic by 6. It is pretty good going, but it is tough after you get done with your treatment and you are weak. It could be hot and sunny or rainy and wet and still he has to walk. He does it three times a week. I drive an old raggedy 1997 pick up truck that I keep running. I give as many rides as I can. I go to dialysis three times a week and will do that for the rest of my life. I want to live. When this spot stops working, they go to another spot. This is my 15th year. The first five minutes and the last five minutes hurt. Sticking the needles in and taking the needles out. It takes 5 hours and I do it every three days. This is part of my life. I have been on the kidney transplant for the last 14 years, but my daughter got a kidney three years ago. I was glad for her. I was in the Army and Air Force and served in Bahrain. A lot of my guys have gulf war syndrome from shots and anti this and anti that. Anti blood agent and nerve agent are part of the reason I am on dialysis. I walk on the street for exercise and pick up trash and cans and get money for the cans. To get good money, you need 100 pounds. I usually get just enough money to go fishing with or to catch a crab. I buy chicken backs and take them to the Causeway and catch a couple dozen crabs. That is good. I come home and make a big pot of gumbo. That is what I do. I watched the news on Baton Rouge and I am going to load up the truck and go there. I go to disasters and help. I have been to Oklahoma City and Tuscaloosa. I made 13 trips to Tuscaloosa. The need was so great. I am a carpenter by trade and worked with Habitat for Humanity. That is the stuff I do. I make wooden rocking horses out of scrap materials for local organizations to give away at Christmas. I had a stroke on the brain on February 14, 2003, and the doctor told me I would never walk, talk, or use my hands. I proved him wrong the next day when I walked to the restroom. I turned 58 yesterday and thank God for it. I still cut grass and do yard work. Some can’t do that. I can skip and jump and hop around. I have been blessed.”

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