From Climbing Mountains to Living with the Challenges of CKD: A Personal Story

I had an abrupt introduction to Chronic Kidney Disease about eight years ago. I was at the end of a training program to climb Mt. Rainier so on a beautiful Saturday I took my loaded backpack out to the mountains near my home and hiked 14 miles. The following day I ran 7 miles and remember thinking afterwards that I was possibly in the best shape of my life and was certainly ready for the climb. However, the following weekend, I was in the emergency room and violently ill, 45 pounds heavier than the week before, and I could barely breathe. I was hospitalized, biopsied and diagnosed with a chronic kidney condition known as Minimal Change Disease, an autoimmune disease that normally strikes children and has no known cause. This was my departure from a normal healthy life and my introduction to CKD.

Like most CKD sufferers, I have an impressive litany of medical horror stories due to my disease or from side effects from medications to treat my disease. I have had colon cancer requiring a total colectomy. I have made countless trips to the emergency room and my heart has been restarted several times. On several occasions during renal failure I have had massive weight swings, gaining up to 45 pounds and then losing 60 pounds in the same month. Although these little events were dramatic and often terrifying, I have found the day-to-day grind of my chronic illness is by far more challenging.

I used to view my illness as a thief that had stolen so many things from me that I had taken for granted as a healthy person. Before my illness, I could make plans and be confident that I wouldn't have to cancel at the last minute. I could sit next to someone who was sneezing and not worry that if I caught their cold it would probably lead to renal failure, many days too sick to get out of bed, and months of high-dose steroids. I had a career that I enjoyed that allowed me to travel routinely to Europe, never imagining that I would ever have to go on long-term disability. I thought this thief had stolen the basic pillars of a happy life, including my health, career, and at times even my dignity.

I have come to understand that some of the things I thought had been taken from me, such as my sense of invincibility, were delusions in the first place. My trail running has been replaced with short hikes, my international trips have been replaced with Bay Area excursions, and I can do volunteer work for wonderful organizations like the National Kidney Foundation. It's much more satisfying to carry my nine-month-old son through our local park than to climb Mt. Rainier.

Although I would never have chosen my illness, I've also come to understand how very fortunate I have been compared to so many other CKD sufferers. I am not on dialysis or frantically searching for a donor kidney. I have always had access to the very best healthcare providers at Stanford and UCSF. I have a wonderful support network of friends and family, including a very patient and compassionate wife and a beautiful baby son.

As challenging as my illness has been, I cannot imagine how I could have survived it without such wonderful care and support. Unfortunately, thousands of CKD patients don't have access to these same advantages. Your support helps the National Kidney Foundation ensure that these patients are supported and through prevention programs, many thousands of others never have to contract these horrible diseases.

I don't believe anyone is ever prepared to become a patient of any chronic disease, but I do believe that through time and experience, we can get much more adept at coping with the impact these diseases have on our lives. I can be contacted at bradjprice@yahoo.com if you or someone you know wants to compare notes on living with CKD.