Steve's Obituary JAGER, STEVEN M., 51, of Clearwater, died Sunday (Jan. 16, 2005) at Morton Plant Hospital, Clearwater. He came here in 1975 from his native Chicago. He worked 18 years in electronic commerce at Tech Data, Clearwater. He attended Christ Community Presbyterian Church, Clearwater, and was a board member of the American Association of Kidney Patients. He enjoyed computers, reading and traveling. Survivors include his wife of 32 years, Vicki; a daughter, Lisa Lizano, Clearwater; a mother, Etta Jager, Illinois; and a brother, Barry Jager, Florida. National Cremation Society, Clearwater.

Ooooh I love milk. I haven't always been this way, just in the last few years. I used to drink 2% milk and then I switched to whole milk - what a difference in taste! Now, of course, I can't drink milk very often because of the phosphorous in it. Milk is now a big treat... problem is, whenever I drink one small glass I always want another... and another... and... Anyway, tonight I drank about three glasses of milk. Yes, I know how bad it is for me. But, OK, once in awhile can't hurt, right? Especially since I've been sick the last few days and I'm pretty much not hungry for anything.

I think I'm getting a cold. It was pretty hard getting through my treatment today... I hate being sick and on the machine at the same time :P

Today at my treatment my BP was very, very low. So low, in fact, that they wouldn't let me leave (drive myself) and I had to call Ken to come and pick me up. This is the first time in a year that has happened. At the end of my treatment my BP wouldn't come up above 80/40 and several times it was more in the range of 70/30 - yikes!

I haven't been sleeping good again. Today I had an appointment with my neph who decided to try a new treatment for my insomnia. He prescribed an anti-depressant in a very small dose (smaller than what would be given for depression) so we'll see if it works. I've never heard of using that kind of drug for sleeplessness.

I finally found out today what exactly happened to my friend Steve who passed away 10 days ago. I went to my appointment today with my nephrologist, Dr. Dewberry, and got the full story for the first time. Dr. D told me that Steve went to the hospital gravely ill with a central line (neck cath) infection which turned into sepsis. He was in and out of the hospital for more than a week. Toward the end his whole body started shutting down and they had to put him on a breathing machine. Finally, he had a heart attack, which I'm certain was probably due to the fact that his heart had been weakened by years of diabetes and kidney failure, and they couldn't bring him back from that. So, he died of a heart attack but it started as a massive infection. Dr. D told me that he was completely out of it for the last few days... which for some reason makes me feel a bit better knowing that he probably didn't know what was happening and therefore didn't suffer much fighting it. I guess it was just his time, even though he was the "Energizer Bunny," - he kept going and going nonstop (like anyone else you know?) - as one of the staff at our Neph's office said today. His memorial is this Saturday at 11 AM. I'm not looking forward to it, but I will be there. I still miss him terribly and I keep thinking he's going to call me...

Woo hoo! One Year on hemodialysis! I'm proud of the fact that I made it a whole year without being in the hospital... just wait, I probably jinxed myself saying that :P

The memorial service for my friend Steve is going to be Jan 29th (a week from Sat) at 11 AM. It will be held at a church just down the street from me which is also very near to his house. I don't know how I'm going to get through it, but I'm going to go. His wife has asked that donations be made to AAKP in lieu of flowers. Of course I will make a donation, but I would like to send flowers, too. I still can't stop thinking about him. Its strange how I can't get him off my mind. His death has been very upsetting. Now I feel like I don't have anyone I can really talk to about my deep-seated negative feelings about CKD or dialysis.

My blood pressure has being doing weird things. First its high, then its too low. I tried cutting my BP medicine (Norvasc) in half - taking 5 mg instead of 10 - but that made my BP too high again. Now I've been trying to just take 10 mg on regular nights and 5 mgs on nights-before-dialysis. That isn't working out too good, either because it still stays too high. However, whenever I take 10 mg every day, my BP gets too low during my treatments... today it was even really low when I first started! (103/55) I don't really know what to think or how to solve this little hiccup. Oh, I even tried different medications all-together (Lisenopril and Cozaar) and I get high BP and/or headaches without 10 mg of Norvasc. My doctor's office has been booked solid for a month and the earliest appointment they've given me is next Thursday. Maybe we need to put me on a different med...?

I keep thinking about Steve. I keep reading the email from our mutual friend over and over that told of his death... almost as if reading it would somehow make the reality be wished away... or maybe I keep wondering if I'm in a dream and reading the email makes me realize I'm not. He really is gone. He had so much left in life - He and his wife were in the middle of remodeling their home... he'd just finally gotten on the transplant list... his daughter just got married in November... lots of great ideas and plans for this year. He really lived as if he would live forever, never stopping just because he was 'sick'. I admired that about him. I talked to him about my fears, things I didn't tell anyone else (mostly fears about dialysis and transplantation and dying...) I talked to him about religion and education (he was pleased I'd decided to go back to school) and child rearing. He was sort of like a dad to me, but yet, somehow I was more equal to him than I will ever be to my own parents. I keep going back to the emails between us over the last two years... trying to grasp every scrap of wisdom in every word. I just can't believe he's gone. And why is this harder on me than my own grandmother's death?