Absurd Conversations, Episode 2: or "It's Not Time To Worry Yet"

Cam doesn’t know that he’s extraordinary.

As you hopefully know, Cam has not had dialysis since the end of January. Yesterday our dentist asked me how dialysis had been for Cam.

“Awful. I could always tell that he was miserable the whole time, but he never complained.”

Our dentist almost teetered off his rolling chair because he pushed away from my exam recliner so fast. "Really?" he exclaimed. "He never complained?"

“Really. Never.”

Dr. Dentist went on and on about how he couldn’t believe it. How extraordinary.

Now, don’t go getting the idea that Cam is perfect. I worry that that’s the picture that I paint for you. In reality, he's far from it (he made me write that), especially when dealing with stalled electronics, stalled traffic or frustrating customer service, but I choose to write about the many things that make him close to perfect.

So today we schlepped back to the nephrologist. (That’s fancy for “kidney doctor” – nephrologist, that is. Schlepped is Yiddish or Jewish or Angeleno for “drove the really long way that wouldn’t really be long if there were fewer cars on the road and a better mass-transit system.")

Anyway, we schlepped to Dr. Nephrologist for the first time in five weeks because the logistics of a recent job for Cam had prevented him from having his blood checked.

I’ve been eager for this check-up. See, Cam had been having his blood checked at least once a week before – sometimes every two or three days – so going five weeks felt like a dangerously long time to me.

Here’s why –

I now present Absurd Conversations, Episode 2: Kidneys and Potassium.

Please note that this ACTUAL conversation took place in January, not recently.

Nephrologist: Cam, I had you come in because yesterday’s blood test showed your potassium is high. Since elevated potassium in a kidney patient puts you at risk for a cardiac episode, I want to do an EKG.

He does the EKG. The EKG comes back normal.

Cam: How will I know if my potassium gets too high? What kind of signs or symptoms will I have?

Nephrologist:  Probably none. It'll just kill you.

I wish you could have actually heard the delivery of that last line, because there wasn’t even a beat between Cam’s question and the answer. Actors and comedians clean house with timing like that.

We laugh about that line a lot . . . now.

I know Dr. Nephrologist hadn’t meant to be shocking because shortly thereafter, he repeatedly checked that I understood that Cam’s EKG looked fine. Had he read some worry or bewilderment in my face? Nah...

Dr. Nephrologist goes on to explain that because of Cam’s borderline kidney function, he’d be perfectly justified in requiring Cam to continue dialysis three times a week, IF Cam weren’t so responsive about doctor’s orders.

BUT, since Cam IS so responsive, they would just watch his blood levels carefully . . . so, kids, there’s something to be said for being good at following directions after all.

Here’s the story Dr. Nephrologist then shared to make his point about following a nephrologist’s directions:

A few months prior, Dr. Nephrologist had seen a patient who didn’t live locally. He tells the patient, an older man, that when he returns home, he must see a local doctor for treatment. The man goes on his way.

Dr. Nephrologist has his office manager call the man's family repeatedly: Has he gotten treatment? Has he gotten treatment? He hasn’t. He hasn’t.

Again, has he gotten treatment?

No. He’s dead.

The End.

I did not make up any of the preceding Absurd Conversation from January. I am not that creative. Or that morbid.

Do you see why I was eager for today’s check-up?

Even Dr. Nephrologist was eager and excited to see Cam after five weeks. He took off his gloves and held out his arms and said, “Give a hug.” Picture Woody Allen, just a lot sweeter, with curly hair, and insanely smart about kidneys. It was adorable.

So how did it go? I don’t know. Cam will call and get today’s bloodwork results late tonight, just like Dr. Nephrologist said to. Yes, really. Insanely devoted doctor.

Why do I worry? Cam hasn’t dropped dead yet. And yes, Dr. Nephrologist sufficiently put that fear in me. Hello, did you read the preceding Absurd Conversation?

While schlepping to Dr. Nephrologist this morning, I realized that Cam doesn’t realize that he’s extraordinary with his cheerful "let's think about only what we know is reality".

I think I’ve had times when I’ve been really good at being positive, but other times when I struggle.

So during our schlep this morning, I made a request: “Just give me credit for handling this well, please. You went weeks without your blood being tested.” With Dr. Nephrologist’s consent, Cam always adds.

I made the request because I wanted to know that it’s okay that I’m not extraordinary. That I worry. But that surely someone who knows me as well as Cam does understands that I could have worried a lot more if I hadn’t been making an effort not to worry.

If you worry about Cam, too (which you keep in check, I’m sure), please feel free to bug me by tomorrow if I haven’t given you an update about his blood results. I don’t want to leave you hanging for a month like I did about the lungs.

Oh, speaking of lungs, he got a chest x-ray today, too. Dr. Nephrologist said the lungs sounded good, so surely all is well on that front, too!

Yup. Surely all is well.

It’s not time to worry yet.*

*Can’t take credit for such a great line. It’s from the wise father, Atticus Finch, in To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, that classic that when I read it as an adult made me exclaim, “I read this in high school? It’s incredible!”