The results are in. I have IgA Nephropathy. If you’re curious you can read more about it at this handy website.
If you don’t have time to read all that this is what happened:
At some point (science doesn’t know when) and for some reason (again science doesn’t have a clue) a load of my antibodies decided to take up residence in my kidneys and messed them up a bit so they don’t work very well.
What a bunch of twats.
The weirdest part of that, for me at least, is that science doesn’t know what caused it. I thought we lived in the civilised world? I mean I can look at cat videos when-ever or where-ever I want. I’m basically a cyborg, albeit one with wonky kidneys.
The doctor’s don’t know what the long-term plans are for this condition. It follows one of two paths. In the first one, the kidneys are a bit smashed up but they don’t get any worse and you live a relatively normal life but just avoid salt if you can.
The second path is that the kidneys get a bit worse every year until they stop functioning and you have to hook up to a machine or buy some new ones on eBay. If you aren’t sure this, is ‘the sad’ outcome.
I won’t find out which one I’m on for a few months because they need to sample my wee far enough apart to draw a nice graph. Although I’ll have another doctor’s visit this week just for the lols and to possibly adjust my prescription.
That’s another weird thing I have learned: When it comes to doctors giving you drugs they are just sort trying stuff to see if it works. Like making soup without a recipe. They give you some stuff, see what happens and then if that seems okay, give you some more stuff. In this story I am the soup and the drugs are herbs or things you’ve found in the fridge that you should probably use up.
I’m going to be on drugs from now on, but at least the latest mix doesn’t give me weirdly swollen ankles. Weird ankles, that TP thinks I am imagining but makes the kidney doctor immediately change the dosage I am on. I’m glad that did that, fat ankles don’t work with skinny jeans.
I’m still a bit vague about what’s happened over the last month or so. Vague as in I’ve not really processed it and turned it into a pithy anecdote with jokes in. Sometimes I feel fine and other times I just feel like gazing in the the middle distance, maybe at a wall, and not thinking too much.
I’m a bit angry occasionally about how it seems unfair. I mean I’ve done some silly stuff like drinking a lot in my twenties but I eat well and I excise a lot. It feels like some dude sat in his flat playing World of Warcraft and eating crisps has got completely functioning kidneys where I am stuck with wonky ones. It’s bollocks.
Some other times I feel incredibly guilty. The Theater Producer didn’t sign up for this. More insidiously I often feel guilty when I do nothing, like reading a book. Like I’ve suddenly been made aware of my mortality and now I should treasure every second by writing books or changing the world. When all I really want to do is watch Orange Is The New Black and eat chocolate.
On the plus side the people in the work gym having a great week, because they’ve saved a life, sort of. They’ve even asked me to be a case study on how their job is mega important. My atomically high blood pressure was very dangerous. I wouldn’t have known without them. They were so chuffed they even gave me a free padlock for my locker. WINNING AT LIFE.
The Theatre Producer and I have been going out for nearly a couple of months now. Here is what I have learned so far.
- She really likes cucumbers.
- She makes incredibly good sandwiches.
- And good gin and tonics, but seriously that sandwich was amazing.
- She doesn’t like the film Dune as much as I do. Although I do admit it is a bit weird, that’s why I like it.
- I get up earlier than her, but she is happy for me to go off and make her brioche while she sleeps.
- She is better at shooty computer games than Biscuit.
- Spiders are not her friends, even photographs of them.
- If I need her to be quiet I should make her banana bread, a cup of good coffee (black, no sugar) and put on the West Wing 0r Game of Thrones.
- She has a lot of shoes, almost none of them are sensible.
- Because of her job, if you watch a show on the telly with her she will know someone in it. I always find this a bit exciting.
- Chocolate buttons are her breakfast chocolate of choice.
- She is very nice
Last night the Consultant came around and we cooked beefburgers (hamburgers for the Americans) together. The plan was to make them from scratch so I went to the shop to pick up ingredients on the way to meet her at the tube station.
We said hellos. She was wearing a white shirt, with a small light brown skirt with light brown cowboy boots and a light brown belt.
It was another well-coordinated look. I’ll have to ask her about that some time to find out if she plans them in advance or just pulls them together.
We got back to the house and started to prepare the meal. I’d got a load of lovely things to put on burgers so there was blue cheese to crumble and tomatoes that needed slicing.
The Consultant put some music on and the cooking was fun. There may have been slightly more kissing than the people on MasterChef would approve of but the end result (the food I mean) was spectacular.
After eating too much we retired for the evening for bed. The Consultant had to get up early to be on the other side of London so two alarms were set before we went to sleep. We did talk about some stuff, like previous relationships and the amount of people you have slept with. Why do people ever ask that question? What ever the answer they aren’t going to like it.
I said I’ve never counted (true) and that I didn’t see the point in keeping score (also true). We talked about relationship history, but it had been so long since I’ve had that chat I had to think carefully to remember it all. She had previously been in an ‘open relationship’ with a soldier but nothing for a while.
The next morning we woke up early thanks to shouty alarms. The Consultant grabbed a shower and I prepared tea, a few Danish pastries and of course some breakfast chocolates. The Consultant liked this and especially pleased with the pastries.
The Consultant wants to get into writing, I had said if she could write a test piece for me that was good enough I ‘d see about commissioning some work from her. She was excited by this.
So after breakfast she decided she wanted to write this test feature, right now. I did sort of make sense because I was there to provide instant feedback but also I was aware of the clock ticking away before she had to leave.
She wrote on my laptop for about 45 minutes. I sort of sat around quietly waiting. I hate being interrupted while writing so I thought I’d afford her the same grace that I would like, it was a bit of a boring way of spending a morning though.
The sample she produced was good. It only needed a little bit of tweaking to make it better suited to the paper, and I told her so.
The Consultant seemed pleased with this and there was quite a lot of kissing. The sort of kissing that might be leading on to something that people do when a lady and a man like each other very much. There was wriggling too.
She was on top of me wriggling around kissing me. It was nice.
And then it stopped suddenly, because she reached over to get the laptop. She did apologise but said she was a perfectionist and she wanted to tweak a sentence. She did a bit of editing while still straddling me.
As you can imagine I was a little shocked by this. Still I decided to focus the positives, she was at least using the laptop to one side rather than resting it on my face.
Once she had finished editing there was a bit more kissing, with her saying she was going to be late. The resistance faded a little bit when I did something very nice on her, but before the subject of reciprocating even be raised she said she had to go.
I walked her to the tube and said goodbye. For the first time I didn’t raise the subject of when I was seeing her next.
Marriage Percentage: 20% – She took a knock for the whole laptop thing, also no-one wants to end a date with a vague sense of being miffed. However I’m sure everyone has off days so I’m not going to delete her from my phone and become a monk.
Not yet anyway.
The Consultant came over a few days later. I asked her to wear something extra slinky and she turned up in a dress that caused breathing complications at 100 yards. Win!
We went to a stand-up gig at the O2, had drinks in the bar and then she stayed over. She was quite possibly the best house guest ever. The only minor complication was that she had covered my back in scratch marks just before I was due to fly off to New York.
Marriage Percentage: 35%