My check-up with my nephrologist went about as expected:
I have more protein in my urine, which means, yes, my kidneys are not functioning as well as they were 6 months ago.
My blood pressure remains higher then she'd like it to be, and as soon as I finish breastfeeding my infant, which she says will be in 6 months, she will change my meds to deal with that issue. For now, the baby's needs are more important, but they won't be for long.
My kidneys are big. Bigger than they were. Because, you know, I have a progressive disease.
Just once, I wish I could go in and she would say, "Wow, you are FINE!"
Those days are over, I guess. Dang. And, come to think of it, people who are fine don't go to nephrologists. Duh.
On an different note, I went and visited a woman in my church today who is 86 and just had a pace maker put in. She is feeling sore and is having trouble getting around, so I went to cheer her up with my baby's smiling face. And, seriously, if I wasn't so paranoid about freaky people turning pictures of my cherubic children into their own personal po*n, I'd post a picture of my infant to make your day. Her smile is the most amazing thing on the planet.
Anyway, as I was getting on an elevator, an elderly woman was getting off, and she was bent over completely double, pusing a walker in front of her. She couldn't even lift her head to look at me, although her casual greeting was pleasant enough. I tried not to stare, but seeing her made one thought stick in my brain: