I have become a bit lax of late so far as my physical condition goes. I keep telling myself that I need to get into some sort of shape, lazy me says round IS a shape…
I suffer terribly from gout and for no apparent reason it can strike. I can get it in my feet, hands, knees and shoulder and when I get a full on attack it’s totally debilitating. I was on a previous mission earlier this year to lose weight and gain some measure of fitness by swimming as it is something I enjoy, and I was having some success but a couple of bad attacks put me off – until now.
Here comes the rub. Transplant surgery will not be considered if someone is over a certain body mass, and while dialysis is good as a renal function replacement, its not good forever, over time the body deteriorates. The average mortality rate on dialysis I believe is about 9 years (I hasten to add that is certainly not always the case – some people have been on dialysis for many years). So it makes the best possible sense to exercise regularly to keep the body and heart as strong as possible – not easy if you have kidney failure as tiredness, fatigue and illness limp with you every step of the way.
My “Leisure Card” for my local sports centre includes on it a discount both on swimming and the dreaded gym. I’ve always found gyms to be frightening places with strange mixes of people ranging from the fad gymsters who only want to loose a few pounds to fit in their skinny beach-ware to the Iron Man/Lady competitor and finally the Meat Head who struts around the gym as though he owns the place, sneering at us mere mortals who break out into a sweat just trying to mount the exercise bike.
I know that I have to brave it, but just can’t stand the idea of people’s snide looks and remarks. Perhaps I’ll have a t-shirt printed with the words “I’m a dialysis patient so ‘eff off unless you have something encouraging to say” – or words to that effect. But go I must, so I’ve got the t-shirt sorted, I’ll also need trainers and tracksuit bottoms – shorts are for people with muscles, and I more accurately depict a spud on 2 cocktail sticks.
I could always go in a spandex body suit – that should empty the gym quite quickly…..
Finally there is the dreaded Gym Induction – where a Greek god/godess fitness instructor assesses you and your gym prowess before administering a gruelling, torturous fitness plan designed to make you a wheezing cripple crawling on all fours to the drinks machine every 5 minutes.
The more I think about this the more I’m looking forward to it……Not.
Maybe I should stick to swimming for the time being….. I can do floating
Whatever I decide, I will keep you posted