Dialysis
Since we last spoke, I was actually starting to feel a bit better. I could finally walk more, which meant I got to discover little corners of Paris—at the same time the city itself was slowly shutting down. People were beginning to wear masks everywhere, and honestly, it felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Masks didn’t just remind me of the pandemic—they brought me back to doctors. And I’d been surrounded by doctors my entire life.
Speaking of doctors, I was “prescribed” a new one: Dr. Abou Retji, Lebanese. Now, imagine my mom’s face when she realized he was Lebanese. She was overjoyed! The second we stepped into his office, she had the biggest smile on her face. For a moment, I was terrified she was going to hug him out of excitement just because of that shared Lebanese connection. Thankfully, she didn’t—because that would have been way too embarrassing.
Dr. Retji was an expert in fistulas, which brings me to yet another throwback (you know I love my throwbacks). Let me explain:
When I was four years old and living at La Trinidad hospital in Palermo, Buenos Aires—just steps away from my house—I had to start dialysis because my kidneys were the first organs attacked by the toxins from E. coli.
What is dialysis?
Dialysis is a treatment that removes extra fluids and waste products from your blood when your kidneys can’t do it themselves.
There are 2 main types:
Peritoneal Dialysis (PD)
Me (age 4) - Ongoing with Peritoneal dialysis
At age four, this was the easier option for me. Instead of a machine, your own abdominal lining acts as a filter. A catheter is surgically placed in your belly, and cleansing fluid (dialysate) is poured in. It absorbs waste and excess fluids, and then a few hours later, it’s drained out. It can be done almost anywhere as long as you have the supplies.
There are 2 types of Peritoneal dialysis: Continuous Ambulatory Peritoneal Dialysis and Automated Peritoneal Dialysis.
Hemodialysis(HD)
This uses a dialyzer (a filtering machine) to clean your blood. Before starting, a minor surgery is needed to create a vascular access site—usually a fistula in the arm. Hemodialysis is typically done at a center or at home, three times a week, lasting around four hours each session. Source: https://www.kidney.org/kidney-topics/dialysis
Now, back to Paris and my appointment with Dr. Retji. Professeur Thervet had referred me because Dr. Retji was supposed to be the surgeon for my fistula. The thing is, fistulas can look pretty rough and often leave your arm scarred for life. At that moment, I wasn’t too worried—I figured, I’m young, I’ll get through it.
But Dr. Retji surprised me. He explained that he really didn’t want to put in the fistula too early. He even mentioned that a friend of his had one done and never used it, which left his arm ruined. Instead, he believed I was young enough and would likely receive a transplant sooner rather than later. He wanted to convince Professeur Thervet to let me use a catheter for dialysis instead—a less invasive option.
The catch? Catheters come with their own risks. They can get infected easily, and you can’t ever get them wet. Still, Dr. Retji was ready to fight for me, and I’ll never forget that.
During those weeks, I didn’t see much of Professeur Thervet. The routine was mostly blood tests every 15 days. But each result came back worse—the creatinine levels kept climbing faster than we expected. It’s a surreal feeling, knowing your body is slowly failing and that there’s nothing to do but wait.
This is me, signing off — Till next time!
Gee