The Great Biopsy part II

Do you ever have those moments where you think in your head: I'm done. I can't do this (insert whatever it is that you are not wanting to do) anymore?

So this past Friday I received the usual post-transplant clinic phone call. I had been there that morning. Apparently, the blood work results showed that my creatinine (toxins) had jumped nearly one-hundred points. In the land of kidney transplants, that is not a good thing, and a bit of panic ensued.

I was told to return to clinic immediately, and that an emergency ultrasound and repeat blood work would be done. 

Here's the thing: when they called, I had just woken up from a much-needed nap. I was tired. I took the news, and hung up, and continued to lay in bed. I stared at our ceiling. I looked out our window. I even went on facebook. After riding  this nearly eight-week long roller-coaster of post-transplant, I just could not motivate myself to get up and return to clinic that afternoon. Besides, Sean had the car and I would have to cab. Although not a big deal, it was still one more obstacle to overcome.

I thought about it awhile, and decided that I just could not do it; I could not go in. It felt, at the time, that doing so would 'crack' me emotionally and mentally. 

So, aware of possibly being labelled 'non-compliant',  I nervously called the clinic and politely-although-not-eloquently explained that I would not be there that afternoon. (Just to give my reasoning for not going in a little more: I knew that I had a biopsy scheduled for Monday anyway and justified not returning to clinic on Friday with the knowledge that I would be there tomorrow).

My nephrologist then got on the phone and proceeded to explain to me, in vivid detail, everything (and I mean everything) that could medically go wrong this weekend for me if this kidney was blocked or in rejection. While I knew most of these scenarios, hearing "pulmonary arrest' does something to motivate a person.

I went in.

According to the repeat blood work done that afternoon, my creatinine had come down twenty points, which, although not a great amount, was at least is a downward trend. 

The ultrasound showed an increase in the inflammation of parts of my kidney, perhaps indicating that the lymphocele (a collection of lymphatic fluid in my belly next to the kidney, due to a complication from surgery) was (and perhaps is) cutting off urine supply to my bladder. Fun, heh? 

So this brings me to Monday (tomorrow). I have a previously-scheduled biopsy appointment that I am supposed to be at, but if the kidney bits and pieces are too inflamed, the ultrasound doc will refuse to do the procedure. I  would be too much of a risk for bleeding. 

If the biopsy is a no-go due to inflammation, then the plan is to do a procedure that causes me much anxiety to even think about: a tube (catheter) will be inserted into my kidney (via a small incision in my belly) and the urine drained out. 

Either way, tomorrow will be a day.