Summer looks different when you’re a dialysis patient.
With a strict 32 ounces of fluid a day, the heat and humidity aren’t just uncomfortable — they can be dangerous. When your body can’t freely take in fluids, it also can’t cool itself the way it should. That means even short periods outside in high temperatures can raise the risk of overheating and heat stroke, something I have to take seriously every single day.
As the weather warms up, my world naturally shifts indoors. While others enjoy long summer afternoons, I’m often inside during the hottest hours, staying cool, staying safe, and managing a body that plays by different rules.
But this isn’t just about summer.It’s about why I’m sharing my story at all.
After 21 years with the kidney my Aunt Theresa generously gave me, it has begun to fail simply due to age. Dialysis keeps me alive, but it also limits my life — from how much I can drink to how long I can safely be outside on a warm day.
I’m now searching for a living kidney donor — someone healthy, willing, and open to learning what living donation really means. Most donors go on to live completely normal lives with one kidney, and the screening process is confidential, safe, and without pressure.
If you feel a tug on your heart, or even just curiosity, I’d be grateful to connect.Your willingness to learn could be the beginning of a second chance at life for me.
This is summer for me.This is dialysis life.And this is why I’m searching for the person who might help change it.
Tag: patient story
Still Fighting, Still Hoping, Still Searching for a Donor
Starting dialysis with a brand‑new fistula is no small thing. The first few times can feel like a battle. You can feel the fistula under your skin — the pulse, the pressure — and you line up the needle with confidence. You go in… and nothing. No flashback. No blood flow. Just confusion.So you adjust.
You angle.
You try again.
Still nothing.A new fistula is unpredictable. Its diameter hasn’t fully developed, and it can shift or roll under the skin. Even when you’re right on top of it, it can slip away like a moving target. You try a new needle, a new spot, a tighter tourniquet — and sometimes you still miss.And that’s normal.When a fistula is fresh, even the surgeon can’t tell you exactly where the vein will settle for a few weeks, sometimes a month. While it heals, if you still need treatment, they place a catheter directly into your chest. It sounds terrifying — and honestly, it is — but it comes with one big advantage: no needles. No searching. No guessing.
But the disadvantages are real:
No true showers.
No getting the site wet.
Constant cleaning.
Constant worry about infection.
So how do you learn to hit a moving target with a large‑bore needle?Patience. Practice. Perseverance.I missed a lot in the beginning. I even had to skip treatments because I just couldn’t get the fistula. The first six months were the hardest. No matter how good your training is, no matter how skilled your nurse is — you will miss.
And that’s okay.
You keep trying.
You keep learning.
You keep showing up.
You can do this!
All those early struggles — the misses, the skipped treatments, the frustration, the learning curve — they taught me something important: I can endure more than I ever imagined. I’ve fought too hard, come too far, and survived too many “try again” moments to stop now.And that’s exactly why I won’t give up.
Not on myself.
Not on this journey.
And not on finding the donor who will help me get my life back.My story isn’t finished yet — and I’m not done fighting.
Accesses, Fistula, amd Ports oh my
When you enter the world of dialysis, you quickly learn that not all “access” is created equal. In fact, the type of access you have becomes one of the most important parts of your treatment — your lifeline, literally.
But for people on the outside looking in, all these terms can sound like a medical tornado: accesses, fistulas, grafts, ports — oh my.
Let’s break it down in a way that actually makes sense.
What Dialysis Access Really Means
Dialysis needs a reliable way to move large amounts of blood in and out of your body. That’s what “access” is — the connection point between you and the machine that’s keeping you going.
There are three main types, each with its own personality.
The Fistula: The Gold Standard
A fistula is created when a surgeon connects an artery to a vein, usually in the arm. Over time, that vein grows stronger, thicker, and wider — big enough to handle the powerful flow dialysis requires.
It’s natural. It’s durable. It’s the access doctors cheer for.
For those of us who live with one, it becomes part of our daily life.
Mine is 10mm — wider than any normal vein in the arm. It’s a surgically‑built super‑vessel, humming under the skin like a quiet engine.
And every session, two large needles go into that fistula.
It’s not glamorous, but it’s what keeps the blood moving and the treatment working.
The Graft: The Middle Ground
A graft is like a fistula’s cousin — similar idea, but with a synthetic tube connecting the artery and vein instead of relying on your own vessel.
It’s ready faster than a fistula, which is helpful when time isn’t on your side.
But it doesn’t last as long and needs more maintenance.
Still, for many people, it’s the bridge that keeps them alive and stable.
The Catheter (Port): The Emergency Door
A dialysis catheter — often called a “port” — is placed in a large vein in the chest.
It’s the quickest access to place, which makes it the go‑to option when dialysis has to start now.
But it comes with risks: infections, clotting, and limitations on what you can do.
It’s not meant to be permanent — more like a temporary doorway until a fistula or graft is ready.
Living With Access: The Part People Don’t See
Access isn’t just a medical term.
It’s part of your routine, your body, your story.
For me, my fistula is something my wife and I manage together.
At the end of every treatment, she places her hand over it to stop the bleeding — a simple act that carries so much meaning.
It’s care. It’s partnership. It’s love in the most practical form.
Dialysis isn’t just machines and needles.
It’s the people who help you through it, the routines that keep you steady, and the access that keeps you alive.
Why This Matters
Whether you’re a patient, a caregiver, or someone trying to understand a loved one’s journey, knowing the difference between these access types helps you see the bigger picture.
Dialysis isn’t one-size-fits-all.
Neither is access.
But each one — fistula, graft, or port — is a lifeline in its own way.
And for those of us living this life, we know:
Access isn’t just medical. It’s personal.