Posts Tagged ‘kidney dialysis’

My finger-less gloves give me a sort of hipster meets hacker appearance. They also match my Tim Burton esq beanie.  The looks from strangers are radiating off my coffee cup. Keeping it warm I’m sure? as i pored this coffee a good couple hours ago. Nursing the straw in between keystrokes. Looking completely mysterious, i think?  My pink crotchet scarf being the final fashion cherry. I’ decided to make a statement that I”m one cool cat. I’ll sprinkle a little Mystery into the dawning of my introduction. While dressed like my fashion pioneer.  Punky Brewster.

Today starts my new adventure at the downtown Dialysis center. I decided to divorce my previous clinic for a temporary time. I think we needed a break? Whether or not that break will come to fruition.. We’ll find out?  I just needed a fresh start. Inspiration to write & being near home. Also, the downtown clinic has heated chairs. YES.. HEATED chairs. My body may lie retired in a medical clinic but my ass is on vacation. Somewhere clearly tropical. Wearing euro-trash and thanking me by form of tequila shots.  This must be what Julia Roberts felt like with Richard Gere? This clinic is FANCY. All i need is an annoyingly infectious crackle and some I Love Lucy. I Kyle, feel like a Pretty Woman today.

My eternal alarm clock awakes me. “FUCK i have forty minutes.” i growl. Wishing my phones alarms didn’t come in options like Feathered Waterfall or Soothing Apple Tree. I have  yet to be woken up by my phone. I’d much prefer alarm tones like Woman Giving Birth or Root Canal. But alas, i’ll settle with Chirping Finch. Sigh!

Eric presents me with a cup of coffee. My tongue licks the steam in gusto. Vanilla scent seducing me. ” I’d fuck this coffee if I had more time,” I say to Eric. Him leaving mid sentence as such a comment is pretty daily. But him purposely giving me time to process that today i’m holed up at the downtown clinic. My stomach in knots as if the first day of school. “Will they like me? ” What if the nurses & techs are cunty? Why again did I leave my old clinic?. I hate change, grrr”.  These thoughts rotate as I fight back tears. Cursing MY Gods for not producing a kidney yet. “Damnit to Cher, what’s the fucking hold up?”  I’m too fragile of a man to handle CHANGE.

Sitting in my 1999 Dodge Intrepid while it heats up. Singing the tunes of a car that needs work.  Clunks & rattles fading out the voice of Feist.  Feeling a little claustrophobic as I sit in this  fart igloo. The smells wafting from retired Mcdonalds Happy Meals and gym clothes. This is clearly a self-induced punishment . But remembering the grim cold that cloaks itself outside awaiting to defile my poorly circulated body. I’ll take this prison momentarily and allow my anxiety to warm me. I cannot believe in 15 minutes i’ll be faced off with the unfamiliar?  I set the car in drive and begin my fidgety journey to downtown. The coffee’s aroma now leaving me mentally impudent as fear takes the wheel. Fuck, i hate change.

I pace behind a fellow with a Kermit the Hat beanie. The sort of ones you mock from Hot Topic but secretly wish you could pull off. The mans yellow tinted skin alarms me but acts as a great guide into the unknown.  The doors slide upon entry being clearly well lubed. Inviting Kermit and I inside to stay awhile. A queef of warmth blankets my body with what’s mixed with Hospital smell. The smell of elderly and bleach that I’ve OH SO become employed too know. “Welcome.. you must be Kyle?” . I leap back in disbelief as Kermit sounds awfully feminent?  I peak my head around and am greeted by a middle-age woman. She being the source to the voice.  I feel foolish and examine her. “We’ve been excited to meet KYLE.” she says glowing.  Me blinking on as my ego inflates by sound of her praises. Reminding myself that I’m cool and collected.  I want to be discreet and make no friends here. Mostly deriving from the family I already missed from my previous clinic.  This place is just a business agreement. I am giving them zero introduction to the real me i decide. Dialysis and go.This woman’s lava lamp physique leaves me delighted for preferring Bratwurst over taco. How her tits read like a Google Map making it clear to me their going East & West. Her catsuit turns out to be scrubs that only defines the outline of a camel toe. Awaiting the camel toe to scream “Feed Me Seymore.” and swallow up poor Kermit dude in a gulp. I’m clearly allowing my imagination to run rampant.

Her names Jan. And she works as the front desk administration. A woman who’s voice belittles between vowel punctuation. A woman who thinks her job is more important then actual definition. A woman who I imagine goes home urgently to check her PlentyofFish.com profile for notifications. Taking self portraits from her smartphone in her favorite angles. Editing her profile daily in hopes to snag the right salmon. Jan is a lonely soul by appearance. I feel bad for her.

As I make my way through the haunting entrance to what seems like a 60 foot hallway i take notice of my new clinic. Bright. New faces roaming the corridors as whispers of my presence begin reaching my ears.  Anxiety ballooning within my stomach walls as I continue my catwalk. Attempting to keep my cool as I’m moments away from facing my new adventure.-

My new clinic.

To Be Continued..

K

My heavy anxiety goes noticed by my technician Kristin. She sportively squeezes my shoulder with a smirk.  Over the past year we have been together 3 times a week. For four hours at a time. The relationship we share is something deep but goes unsaid. Essentially she is the primary ingredient in keeping me living. As my technician she is the one who ultimately hooks and unhook me from what has been a nightmare traveled. A one year traveled.

“You become a veteran,” Kristin whispers as she prepares the needles, referring to my one year anniversary. Her perky mannerisms annoying me as I shrug off any attempt she has at cheering me up. It’s a quarter to 7 in the morning and my mood is foul. Without my caffeine beverage in hand I have nothing else to focus on besides the brief pain of needle entrance into my left fistula arm. One thinks that after gaining veteran status that such a thing would be irrelevant.. or painless, really? Unfortunately for me, Kristin’s focus and needle projectury is often sloppy. Leaving  nothing but silent tears as they increasingly well upon deeper entry.

It’s been over a year since i’ve touched down on my current career as a dialysis patient. I’ve taken pride in the positive outlook I had in my previously written stories. Now i feel darkness has blanketed me in this cursed longevity. With no word on a potential kidney candidate there is nothing to do but wait. It’s become the lottery of life really. I envision a blonde southern belle. Perhaps one who ends everything with a charming “y’all,”. A lady whose lived her life in the world of pageantry, riches & daddy issues. She Patiently awaits as the lettered balls spring from the machine. “We got a K, y’all” she squeals as anticipation grows for the next letter. “a Y,” she glows. Presenting a plastic smile as she holds up the lettered ball. Is this how I envisioned my life being saved? I’m not particularly sure the politics involved in getting me a kidney? Any potential family or friends have been ruled out. Which leaves me nothing but imaginary “lottery” scenarios as I look at my phone. No missed calls. Anticipation has now grown to fear. When will I receive that important call?

I sit in my plastic green chair and give a look of fatigue and anger to avoid any eye contact with other technicians or nurses. I have slowly realized my presence has turned sour as I have become the jaded cliché. Cliche referring to the shellbacks who has spent years coming to this clinic. Empty behind the eyes and often elderly. It’s as if they given up. Given up on life all together. I remember promising myself that no matter how long this nightmare took, i’d present myself in a positive presence. Unfortunately, I had cracked somewhere in that year?

I dig through my satchel for one of three activities I normally partake in for the upcoming hours. Listening to Adele, reading my ALREADY procrastinated novel or writing in my journal. I have altogether avoided television as of lately due the politics of our country & the Kardashians, whom have given me extreme case of brain constipation. I slowly whisk the earphones in and press play. By listening to music it has become a source of narration for the feelings that occur during my run. Music is truly the soundtrack to life.

The doors inside the clinic swing open. It catches my attention only cause of the rate the door launched. 90% of the people I spend my time dialysing with use the handicap button for entrance. Often times cause their lazy pieces of shit. But then I remember the few occasions i’ve utilized it and let out a guilty sigh. My eyes gallop to a young girl who  appears to have embarked into Wonderland. I recognize that look i think to myself?  Her passive aggressive walk read a story. “This is her first day,” i say, as she steers towards my direction. My eagerness takes over.

A fleshy young lady in her mid 20’s appears closer. her steps are met with hesitation as she’s followed by two equally scared individuals. Her parents I’m guessing? Arms bandaged together so tightly i’m awaiting a limb or two to pop off. Ironically the young lady is seated next to me. Her eyes sulking in the scary sights I once had to endure. The musk of unshowered elderly. Some of whom are missing limbs and are mentally ill. I always describe my first time as similar to Jack Nicholson’s movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest or Girl Interrupted, for those youngins who may be reading this post.

My heart begins to hurt for this individual. I take notice that her folks have pointed me out already.  In hopes to calm her nerves, that she too, isn’t the only young soul dealing with this adventure alone. I reflect on my current mood status. My rapacious look. The fact I hadn’t smiled since her entrance. The idea i was being poisoned by the  shellbacks. It’s like being on the same cycle where we share a vexed facade. What the fuck happened to me? The one thing I had wished when i had first started was someone kind to just tell me everything was going to be okay!

And that’s exactly what I did…

“Hey, i’m Kyle!.. Words can’t describe your first day here eh? But I been here a year. And I can truly say that it gets so much easier & painless..” 

 Her eyes ignited a glow as her parents silently thanked me with a subtle head nod and smile. An incredibly humbling experience! Perhaps I needed this as much as she did?  End*

Ky

Here is the experience of kidney dialysis for me.