Hemodiealysis

A number of members — of my addiction-recovery program are now deceased. These are people who had kidney and liver failure, and were either patiently waiting for a transplant or already had a transplant. A liver transplant is no guarantee of life. A lot of things can go wrong.

The body can reject the liver, and then you need a second or third one to get one (if any) that are accepted. Kind of like cats: sometimes they just don’t like you and you need to get some more until one is a match.

The body can be too traumatized by the transplant and die from the operation. This is a real problem because you are ranked higher in priority the sicker you are. So generally the most sick get transplants first. It is like playing chicken though, because if you get too sick they won’t do the transplant either.

The body can simply get terribly ill due to the drugs you need to take post-transplant. To prevent liver rejection, a patient takes immunosuppressants. That is: the drugs _turn off_ your immune system. That is nice and friendly for the newly invited liver, but is also an open invitation to many uninvited bacteria and viruses. Over time the immunosuppressants are reduced, so the risks get reduced, but they do not go away.

Death is something I already experience much more of since the hospital, and it will only get worse over the upcoming decades. I wonder if Stanford will ‘cancel’ me if I look too young?

“We would like you to go to Sacramento — for dialysis”

“That is a bit of a drive doctor. I can do it, but we are talking

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several hours of overhead”

“It should only be for a few weeks. And it would make the gods ecstatic “

I meet Nancy a few days later, and sporadically help her get home after the sessions.

“There is a bill ‘2022-114’ — that would be very bad for Stanford” Dr. A says in her office. We always meet in person. It is much less tiring for me than the concentration I need during a zoom call. Telephones are even worse: I should be able to vocalize, but I have lost the coordination between my lungs and vocal cords. The slight telepathy (or whatever it is) with visual contact is a crutch that helps me a lot.

“OK. That is unfortunate. And… ?”

“We would like you to help kill it. Nancy is a proponent and major influencer in the state senate. We would like you to convince her to reconsider her support of the bill. It would make the gods ecstatic”

The bill is killed — after a few weeks of interactions with Nancy during our drives. It is slow because I am worried. Worried Nancy realizes what I am doing. Worried someone else will grow suspicious. Worried I will be exposed and likely ‘canceled’ .

It is also slow because I don’t always drive her home, and don’t have any good reason to meet up with her otherwise. But slow and methodical seems to do the trick.

The gods don’t say anything, but I am scheduled back at my

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