Not the nice kind of balloons.  Ones that are inserted through the groin on a big long wire, past my heart and into the artery in my arm.  I don’t fully understand how it works and quite frankly I don’t really want to know.  Ignorance is bliss. I’ve had a few of these now and they haven’t worked, the latest balloon had special barbs on to try and cut the narrowing in the artery away – but even that hasn’t worked.

At my last clinic appointnent the words “we are running out of options” were used.  Don’t get me wrong I’m not about to cark it, but the options for dialysis access are far and few between.  A graft in my right arm (which I would have to learn to needle with my non-dominant hand), a neckline or even a tunnelled femoral line were all suggested.  Non of which I am keen on, but I may have no choice.

Take me back to the days when my biggest worry was what I should have for tea.



One thought on “Balloons

  1. Saying a prayer for you Holly. I can only imagine your physical torment but I do know how much it has to hurt those who love you and would trade places with you if they could.

    A Mom like your Mum


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