Patients treated for Dialysis in Morocco only receive 50% of the necessary treatment
Via book sales we provide funding for the full treatment of Dialysis including blood/urine tests and medication post treatment. Increasing Dialysis patients chances of survival and saving lives.
Dialysis patient helping others who are less fortunate.
I knew how fortunate I was to get the full suite of dialysis, blood and urine tests each month and all the necessary medications, updated monthly according to the test results, at no upfront cost to me.
In Morocco, the basic dialysis is free of charge but, without the regular blood tests and the regularly altered cocktail of medicines, it doesn’t work properly, and the patient soon deteriorates. In consequence, many perfectly sustainable patients die a slow and very painful death just for the sake of £100 per month.
How It All Began
How my life changed and this became my new ‘normal’.
I was a successful Headmaster, leading a group of international schools. I thoroughly enjoyed my work, and I knew I was good at it. To achieve stability for my young children, I commuted from our home in England on a weekly basis, which was the best compromise for our family situation at the time.
During the course of one week, close to the start of the Spring term, I began to feel unexpectedly tired. I returned home for the weekend and found that I had none of my usual energy to enjoy life with my wife and children. I assumed I’d been pushing myself too hard.
I returned to work but, on Tuesday, I woke up to find my whole body felt kind of heavy. I went to work as usual. On Wednesday I woke up looking like an elephant! I could hardly walk. Something was wrong. I got a taxi to the local hospital and presented myself at A&E. I was seen immediately, which made me think that it wasn’t good news.
The doctor didn’t speak much English and my Italian was little better. I understood that they were going to admit me, to undergo some procedure. I didn’t understand the term “Nephris”. I found myself having local anaesthetic, a tube inserted below my neck and then being attached to a big blue machine with lots of wires and dials on it. I was alone and afraid.
Eventually I was able to understand that this was a dialysis machine and that my kidneys had failed, suddenly, without warning and totally. Dialysis was to become my normal, four hours, thrice weekly, for the long term. I wouldn’t be able to work, or certainly not overseas, so I had to resign my dream job. I returned to my home and family, ill, shocked, and facing an uncertain future.
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