April 23, 2006
On Saturday beginning at midnight, one-third of my Kidney commenced to die.
We all had been rejoicing at the happy news that I could go out into the world a bit more, and I was feeling quite energetic. Friday evening we joined friends for dinner, and at its completion the pain began. It was located on the left side of my abdomen, and as the night advanced, so did the pain.
Nurses and doctors repeatedly request a rating of pain, “where on a scale between one and ten?” They ask. Ever since giving birth to three children, I have used those final minutes of the birthing experience as my 10, and this time I spent many hours at 9+! 
The unrelenting pain had us at the Emergency Room at dawn and there I had the appalling challenge of drinking two glasses of the vile liquid required for a CAT scan. I had been vomiting all night, unable to keep any pain medications down, and now, with nausea sitting at the back of my throat, I was supposed to drink the Pinesol flavored concoction.
Our Emergency Room nurse was young and remarkably callus – she chirruped at us a little more loudly than you would talk to normal people, and she stood facing her computer screen entering needless information while I sat rocking back and forth in agony.
I finally said, “I am looking forward to the IV with the pain medications – soon, I hope” and she said loudly, “I’ll get to it pretty soon, I just want to enter some more things here . . .. I sure wish you could remember how many milligrams of Estropipate you’re on, etc., etc., etc.,” I did get enough fluid down so that the scan could go forward, and we were not surprised to hear that I would need to be hospitalized – though – We did not know what the problem was at this time.
The Emergency Room Doctor reported that a blood clot had been found in the Kidney, I would likely need blood thinners to dissolve it, and a hematologist would read the results of the scan and give a more thorough evaluation.
When I was taken to my room, we found that the Saturday staff at the hospital consisted of recently graduated young nurses, under the supervision of one more experienced nurse. They did not permit me to drink water because they did not know if surgery might be required. This resulted in dehydration, which in turn made all efforts to insert an IV very difficult. Finally, the hematologist on duty came in and says rather abruptly, “You lost a third of your Kidney, but don’t worry, you have one and two thirds left!” I said, “What? I love my Kidneys! Do you mean that this part of my body is gone forever?” The hematologist said, “That’s what I mean.”
I was told that an arterial blood clot formed on my left Kidney and as a result, the Kidney was deprived of blood. It died in 30 – 40 minutes from being deprived of blood. An arterial blood clot is quite rare, but I was told that I was fortunate in that this one took place in the smaller artery leading to the Kidney so only one third of the organ was lost.
Today, the blood samples are getting sent hither and yon, and the mysteries hidden within may be revealed – or not. Meanwhile my regime will now include a blood thinner, “for the rest of your life” and a patch containing a pain killer, “for several weeks – until the clot dissolves.” I will be hospitalized until the correct balance of blood thinner has been determined.
Charles and I look at one another and say, “what is happening now? Why this – another rarely seen event?” We hear, “Live by faith, my righteous ones” and we go on – it is the only way we can.