Our Story
Michael's Story
I finally got to the point where they thought I would be ok if I wanted to be. Peeps it was a hard decision for me because that meant I had to say sorry to A LOT of people, I had to try and right a lot of wrongs I had done and I had to pay back the people that helped me (which I am still trying to do). The choice for most people would have been a simple one but for me it wasn't.
I was an asshole for so long that if I died right then that's all people would talk about. And my kids would remember that I was a mean drunk that yelled all the time. If I died, I didn't have to change I would get out of all of the hard stuff like the I'm sorrys and the, my bads and the, I will try and make it betters. But I was scared to leave this world as a mean, fat drunk. It scared me because I knew there was so much more inside of me than that, but alcohol took the ability for me to get it out and show people.
Catheter Surgery
So here I am headed to surgery to get a catheter put in my chest so I can start dialysis and start this road to getting physically better. I remember being so scared about what my life will be like, always sick, and I kept telling my brother things like, how am I going to work having to go to a clinic every other day and get my blood scrubbed for four hours and where am I going to live and what are girls going to think with this damn tube hanging out of my chest and he looked at me and said something that stuck in my head he said "Well bro, welcome to your new normal" and they wheeled me down to surgery.
WELCOME TO YOUR NEW NORMAL think about that peeps if any one of us wants or needs to change we need a new normal and I am here to tell you first it can be done and second, it's not an easy, comfortable road but you can do it!
(Post surgery moved in with one of his sisters)
After getting to Yuma and getting settled that night, I realized now it was totally up to me to figure this new life out. We found a new clinic and got started with my every-other day treatments. Peeps, imagine going from laying in bed at a hospital and getting treatments in a sleepy haze to walking in with a walker to 30 chairs with everyone full of people getting dialyzed. It was loud, it smelled weird and really seemed unorganized to me. My sister had to drive me back and forth for about a month every other day. It was horrible. I remember feeling like I don't belong here, everyone is older and most looked like they were on there way out (not to be mean).
I was young (comparatively) I wasn't ready to die yet, I guess, so next step was I had to lose the weight. They told me I had to be down to a 35 BMI which is still obese in the real world, but I started at a 46 ugh. I wish I could tell you I hit the gym etc. but I barely could hit the bathroom. So, I just had to get stronger somehow. So, I started yoga. YES, I DID YOGA! It was yen yoga, I think, which was the lamest one, again filled with old people but it worked. I started it once a week and then got to twice a week then I told my sister I wanted to work out. That was a bad decision on my part since my sister was responsible for training marines ugh.
So I tried to work out. Technically my sister tried to kill me haha, so I didn't do it as much as I had planned but I had to get the weight off! So, I walked around the neighborhood etc. and did as much as I could. Meanwhile, mentally I was broken. I had broken up with a six-and-a-half-year relationship, three weeks before I went into the hospital never to speak to her again. I was in a strange old town. Thank God I was with family but my life (as I thought was here in Mckinney) I dreamt of coming home to everyone's surprise and being skinnier and changed and everyone would love me like they did before.
Well, that was not the case at all. I came home to a completely different world than I had left. You see most of my "friends" were bar mates that struggled from the same disease I did and since I had been sober and had to remain that way it was weird to say the least. It was always a "hey what's up do you wanna shot?" I would decline and explain I couldn't drink anymore and the response I got was OH! Like that was all I had in common with all the people that loved me before I left. It was crazy I had lived the shallow life of a bunch of people that "liked" me because we did shots and most of the time I would buy! So to break it down I was sick and sober and most of my friends had nothing to say to me other than "how sick are you". I was sad, I was scared, but deep down I was ashamed of my life that I had lived for so long that almost killed me. At that point I realized I had to change a lot more than just my weight! Ugh
Hey peeps! I just wanted to say thanks to all the people that are reading my story. It's not an easy thing for me to write but I just feel like I need to get it out there that no matter what you're going though it can get better. No one (even me) had an idea how my life would get so destroyed and be built back to something "I" think is fricking amazing. I am thankful just to be here every day. I hope you guys that are facing a tough time or a really bad situation, know it can and will get better if you just have faith and are willing to put in the work in every sense of the word. Mel told me yesterday I should "be proud" of what I have achieved, and I am, but I still face so many hurdles.
I believe my tough life prepared me for this battle things like when I was kidnapped at 17 (for real) and I was beaten really bad and spent some time in the hospital after being stabbed with a screwdriver 11 times and a lot of other things. Now being hooked up to a machine 8 hours a day is just a normal thing to keep me going. I will need two transplants to stay alive and that is a crazy scary thing that I don't let bother me because it's not in my hands anymore. It's in God's and he is the reason I am still here.
Life can suck but if you learn what it's trying to teach you it can be so fricking amazing, when you get through it AND YOU WILL! Shout out to all my peeps struggling mentally with the pain that people can see. I have been there when I didn't know if life was worth living or not. I used to always think what life would be without Michael Warner and the thing is no one would have cared if I was gone. People would do a "shot" or something in my name and bartenders would be lonely during their day shift (lol) but life would not even skip a beat. I have a second chance to make sure I can leave a stamp on this world and DAMN IT I am going to give it my best with what I have left! Love ya peeps
Well as a lot of you know I am back home (Mckinney)! It has a very different definition for me, a lot has changed here in four months. A lot has changed for me emotionally and physically and I am not just talking about dropping 80 pounds. I have a disease called ERSD which means I have zero kidney function and will need a transplant someday soon. Most people don't really know what to say or how to treat me when they find out about this and that's understandable.
First of all, I am OK! I have to live a different lifestyle than I did in the past, but I am grateful to be alive. I have had a ton of support and a lot of smiling faces that make me feel like I am home. To everyone that has helped in my recovery THANK YOU for everything and for those I haven't seen yet feel free to say Hi if you get a chance, I will probably remember it this time...
This was written to my brother who also struggles with addiction. It doesn't have to do with my dialysis story, but it still may help someone.
One year after diagnosis
Well, it’s amazing how a year can change your entire life. I was just remembering when the doctor told me I would be dead in less than two weeks, and I was so relieved that the pain would stop! As most of you know it was a rough time in my life, but I was ready to go. Then I realized I was going to die the fat, mean drunk and that was going to be the way my kids will have to remember me. That scared the hell out of me, it’s sad that’s the part of my death that bothered me. I know it wasn’t my time to go because I am still here, but I would have missed out on all the amazing things I have experienced in the last year or so. I am super glad I got a chance to repair the relationships I have been able to repair and forgive myself for the relationships I couldn’t. My kids mean the world to me and now my family has grown with Melanie’s kids and my dogs and to think I would have missed out on all this is sad. But I haven’t and I still have a crazy road ahead of me to become a “healthy” person but today is a major step in getting closer to that. As I sit here with family and Melanie a little scared because I actually have so much to live for and I value my life and my peeps and it hasn’t always been that way.
Audrey's Story (Michael's Daughter)
Reading from someone with Dialysis may help others go through it knowing they aren't alone. However, the patients as well as the families are affected by this process. I do not have much of a story but as long as it helps one person that's all that matters.
I still remember the phone call I got from my dad asking to meet with him within the week. I was in the middle of US History I in college. I was not in much contact with my dad at the time, but something in me told me I needed to answer the call. He told me to bring my boyfriend at the time, my high school boyfriend and I didn't know then, but he was making sure I had some love and support for what was to come. When I made it to the restaurant, he told me to meet him, I saw my brother Ryan. I had not seen him in almost over a decade. My stomach started turning but I still wasn't prepared for what was to come next.
After we ate and caught up, Ryan asked me to get in the car to go see Dad. I thought it was weird that he wouldn't tell me where we were going or that I couldn't just follow behind him, but I knew this wasn't the time for questions.
We arrived at a hospital and that was when my heart stopped. We arrived at the Emergency Room (ER) and my heart quickened. My brother brought a computer for my boyfriend to mess around with and had his girlfriend (now wife) keep him company while we went behind the big scary doors. I was 18 years old; I had no idea what to expect. I was horrified but I did not show it, I just followed behind.
There was my dad. The person who taught me how to ride a bike. The person who tried to teach me to Parrell Park. The person who taught me you can have fun no matter what age. The person who was supposed to walk me down the aisle. Lying in a hospital bed looking so different from the man I remembered. The man full of life looked defeated and drained. His body was so swollen and so dull. He gave me the "I am dying" speech, and spoke of regret, wants, and timelines.
I couldn't stay strong then. Tears softly escaped no matter how hard I tried to keep them in. I was trying to retain everything he said, trying to piece together what had happened, how it happened, and why this was happening. A swirl of questions went through my head but very few came out. I knew all you would hear was me choking down my tears. By the end of the conversation, all I could say was "How much time do you have left?" He told me his plans to go to San Diego and die with his mother, meaning today was the last day I was ever going to see him. That's a hard thing for anyone to digest. I asked if I could back to the hospital until he left and he agreed. I had no idea the amount of time I was in there. Time seemed to stop.
Ryan dropped me off at my car and I had my boyfriend drive me home. I was not stable enough to be driving myself. Once I dropped him off I decided I needed to go back to the hospital. To spend as much time as I could with my dad before I'd never see him again. I went home and realized I was alone. No one to talk to, no one to tell me it was going to be okay. No one to drive me back. My mother (one of his many ex-wives) had just flown out to celebrate her birthday and I didn't want to rain on her parade. She offered to fly back but I told her no. This was for me to handle, and she should enjoy her time. My boyfriend's parents told me they, as well as he, were not allowed/going to help because it was too much to be going through at such a young age and that he was not to be around me during this time. I wanted to scream at them and tell them "How do you think I feel?" I shouldn't have been losing a parent at 18, I understand people lose parents much earlier, but it didn't make it any easier. I have been fortunate enough to have never even lost a grandparent, the closest thing I knew to death was putting my childhood cat down. Thankfully, all of my mother's friends contacted me and helped me get to and from the hospital until I was stable enough to do it myself.
I drove to the hospital every day after school, got all my shifts covered at the local skating rink, and spent every evening with him. I acted like I was the one dying. We hadn't been close in a lot of years, so I just sat and spilled my entire life to him. From how I met my best friend and how she no longer was my friend anymore. Every high school drama story. All my dreams and aspirations. He was no longer going to be in my life, but I wanted him to know my life and who I'd grown into.
Then one day I arrived, and he was surrounded by people that looked similar to me and even more similar to him. I was very confused. My uncles, his brothers, people I'd maybe met once before, and others I didn't even know really existed. I knew it he didn't have much longer when the whole Warner family was in the waiting room.
The next two days went by, and I knew what that meant. Any day could be the one I never saw him again. I was not told much about what was medically wrong, just timelines of how long he had to live. On the day I thought was my last visit, turned into a day I could never forget. He was going to live. I didn't understand how but I didn't need to, I just needed my dad.
After he was healthy enough to move to Arizona, we kept up with each other through texting and Facetiming until he made it back to Texas. After that, he started dating Melanie (his current wife), and a lot changed, I started coming over every Monday after school for family dinners and things began to feel a little more normal. I got to know my dad sober which was a first and nice change. Melanie took such great care of him; it was beautiful to see that kind of love.
My dad still fights the battle with kidney disease every day, and still visits hospitals every time he has bad flare-ups. Things aren't easy. It's hard seeing your parent hurt, or even not being able to do "normal" things. You grow up thinking they are superheroes for so long, it's hard to remember that they are people too. Not only do parents make mistakes but they also get hurt and sick. Parents aren't superheroes, they're still people. But he has a good support system and now I do too, and I wouldn't change that for the world.