Bob's Blog 12-1-12: Mars, Venus, and Dialysis Centers

[BobN]

Bob Here.

I'm about to unveil a starling scientific discovery, so I hope you're all sitting down.

Ready to have your world rocked?  Okay, here it is:

Men are different than women.

I know.  Quite a revelation, eh?  Just hold your applause, if that's even possible.

Having raised a son and a daughter, I got to observe the fascinating differences between boys and girls at all the various life stages.  My daughter liked to play with dollhouses.  My son wanted to blow them up.  As a young teen, my daughter's idea of active socialization was talking on the phone for hours.  My son's was racing his friends downhill on a skateboard to see who could survive with the least serious injury.  When they were learning to drive, my daughter would get herself settled in the car, check her seatbelt, mirrors, radio settings, note the speed limit, signal all her turns and lane changes, and be courteous to anyone wanting to turn in front of her.  With my son, your butt would barely touch the seat before he peeled out, leaving half the rubber on the tires in the road, and his method of driving could best be described as Deathmatch 1996.

So, it should come as no surprise to people who have been on dialysis for a long time that there are major differences between men and women dialysis patients as well.

Having been on dialysis for over seven years, I've had a pretty good opportunity to observe the gender differences in the ways people carry out their treatment regimens.  I've organized my thoughts into three major categories.  (Remember?  Thirty plus years in Finance?  Symmetrical thinking?  Driving people around me buggy?  Everything organized to within an inch of its life?)

Anyway, the three groupings I came up with are:

Preparation
Noises
Staff Relations

Now, Cal-Berkeley has not yet phoned for an interview, but when it comes to dialysis, these differences are actually quite profound.

Early on in my dialysis life, I had a good opportunity to observe the differences between men and women in a kind of two-person case study.  I was in a good-sized center of about 24 chairs.  Sitting directly across from me were a man and woman of similar age.

When the woman arrived, it took her a solid 10 to 15 minutes to get herself settled and ready for her treatment.  She was wearing neatly pressed sweat pants and a loose but comfortable blouse that looked like it had been bought at Nordstrom that day.  She would stop on the way to her chair to have little chitchats with the receptionist, charge nurse, social worker, and nutritionist.  She would go over to the scale to get her weight, roll her eyes with a "huh??,” get off the scale, reset it, then check it again.  Complain to the nurse that the scale was inaccurate. 

She then went over to the sink to thoroughly wash her arm (fistula) and make sure it was all dried off.

She brought a quilt to make her chair more comfortable, so it would take her a couple of minutes to get it spread over the chair just right.  Set up a pillow as well.  Get her TV arranged at just the correct angle.  Check her machine over.  Unlock the wheels on her chair so that she could re-arrange it a bit.  Re-lock the chair wheels.  Finally sit down.  Decide she didn't like the chair where it was and move it again.  Sit down.  Apparently remember that there was a spicy piece of gossip she needed to cover with the receptionist, runs back to the lobby.  Comes back, re-arranges her chair one more time.  Sits down again.  Chats with the attendant who has been ready to put her on all this time.  Then she's finally ready to begin her session.

Phew.  It was tiring just watching all this.

Just then, perfect timing, the guy who sits next to her comes in.  He was wearing shorts that had an unidentifiable stain across the front and a sweatshirt that looked like it had been dropped off a cliff.

The charge nurse greets him, saying, "How was your day?"

He replies with a noise that sounds something like "Sucky." 

He gets on the scale, shrugs when he sees the result, and since he's not carrying anything heads right over to his chair and plops himself down, reclines as far as the chair will go, putting his feet up, tells the attendant to get his TV, and promptly falls asleep before his treatment even begins.

I started laughing, causing my neighbor to wonder whether my glue was melting.

But, this was fairly typical of the different ways men and women prepare for their treatments, as I observed in many other instances over the years.

The noises made by men and women during their treatments are very different as well.

This same woman apparently viewed dialysis as a good time to catch up on her socialization, both with continuing dialog with various staff members and on her cell phone with friends and family.  She had her TV going, but it was hard to believe that she took in anything that was on because she was talking the whole time.

It made me think of an old Marx Brothers movie where Groucho says to Margaret Dumont, "You know you haven't stopped talking since I got here?  You must have been vaccinated with a phonograph needle."

The noises you heard from the guy, her neighbor, ranged from outright snoring, to grunting, to shifting positions in his chair, with the occasional "Dang blood pressure cuff" and "Pull my blanket up, willya?" sprinkled in.

By the end of each of their treatments, you could have counted the number of words uttered by the guy on one hand.  But you would have needed a NASA computer to count her number of words.

Women are much more analytical in their dealings with members of staff.

Over the months, I had the opportunity to observe the different types of reactions when an alarm would go off, or if something was amiss with their treatments.

For instance, both experienced a little bleeding during their treatments along the way.  (It sounds way more gruesome than it is.  Experienced dialysis patients know that it just happens sometimes.)

Here was her reaction when it happened to her:

"Excuse me, Mary?  Sorry to bother you.  I think my arterial needle might have shifted a little bit and there's some seepage.  Probably just needs to be adjusted slightly at the entry point.  Then if you could just please cover it up with a fresh gauze, that would solve the problem.  Thank you very much."

Here was his reaction when it happened to him:

"Holy crap!  Get over here!"

Then there was the social worker's assessment.  For non dialysis patients, every six months or so the social worker will ask a series of questions, most of which are quite personal in nature.  The purpose is basically to assess how you're managing the dialysis lifestyle.

When the social worker came over to assess the woman, she brought a comfortable chair along, knowing that the interview was going to take a while and would go off on innumerable tangents.

With the guy, she remained standing.  She knew that the responses were going to be single-word in nature, if not single-syllable.  In fact, some of his initial responses were indecipherable grunts.

Here are a couple of examples of the types of questions asked and the different responses.

Social worker:  "Do you have a significant support structure at home?"

Her response:  "Well, there's my husband, of course.  But he can be a little...oh, I don't know...vacant at times?  So my mom stops in every Tuesday for tea and we stay up to speed on what's happening in each other's lives.  She's been great.  Then there's my best friend.  You'll never believe what happened to her last week..."(followed by a lengthy and involved tangent that had nothing to do with the original question.)

His response:  "Yeah.  My wife.  Think her name's Mabel."

Social worker:  "How do you feel like you're handling your dialysis treatments in your personal life?"

Her response:  "I think I handle it pretty well.  Of course there are always times when you don't feel well, or you're really exhausted after your treatment.  I was telling my friends about it at my hair salon the other day.  By the way, know what someone at the salon told me last week??"  (Another lengthy tangent, passing along a juicy tidbit of gossip.)

His response:  "How much time I got left?"

So, my observations definitely supported my stunning theory that there are differences between men and women.

Even in the way they handle dialysis.

Maybe even, especially in the way they handle dialysis.

Thanks for reading.  If you're a dialysis patient, I hope all your treatments are good ones.  If you're not a patient, I hope life's treatment is a good one.

Take care.

[Whamo]

  This belongs on the humor thread.   You should keep writing about your dialysis experiences, and publish them in a book.  You wouldn't need too much editing.  I'm guessing you're a college graduate, probably with a graduate degree as well.   There's a movie there, somewhere, too, as Hollywood has not done dialysis yet.  I'm just about ready to send in my 5th screenplay in for notes.  I've been writing a couple hours a day for five years.   I haven't earned a penny, but I enjoy the process.  I used to make a living as an English teacher, and before that, a writer for a real estate school system.  In any event, I really enjoyed reading your comparison/contrast piece about men and women.  It's comedy gold.   

[brenda seal]

  I too really enjoyed your observations and found myself laughing out loud ! I have been accompanying Laurie to each treatment since he began about six weeks ago . I have been doing some observations of my own and can totally relate to your writings . Thank you so much for a much needed laugh .

[Traveller1947]

Great stuff, Bob!  I enjoyed your book and enjoy these Saturday posts even more!

[willowtreewren]

Laughter IS the best medicine.

Thanks for a very good dose!

 

Aleta

[kitkatz]

Yes, I know those patients.

[BobN]

Whamo, Brenda, Traveller, Aleta, Kitkatz,

Thanks for reading.  Glad you enjoyed.

I think the differences between men and women are deep enough to warrant another post.  Maybe two, sometime in the future.

I'll keep observing and hope you will too.  If you see any gems, please pass them on.

Thanks again.

[Mr Pink]

Yes, I quite liked reading that too.

Since I've been on dialysis, I've noticed a difference between male nurses and female nurses. When a male nurse hooks you up, it's like they're setting up slot car racing track. When a female nurse hooks you up, it's as though they're organising a dinner party for their dolls house. When a male nurse changes the dressing on the permacath, he does it quickly, and then explains that the dressing should last a week. When a female nurse changes the dressing, they take a bit more time, and explain that they would be happy to change the dressing every time you came in for a treatment. When a male nurse idly chats to you, it's usually about the football. When a female nurse idly chats to you, it's usually gossip about one of the other nurses. When a male nurse is looking after you, they seem to spend a lot of time sitting down, probably surfing the net. When a female nurse is looking after you, they seem to spend a lot of time running backwards and forwards to you, making themselves look busier than they probably really are. When a male nurse is unhooking you, it's as though they're in a race with other nurses to see who can finish first. When a female nurse unhooks you, it's as though they have all the time in the world, because the longer they have you there, the more they can gossip to you.

Looking forward to the next blog. 

[Riki]

Hmm.. I always thought I was a strange girl.. this just confirms it..

This how a typical run will go for me.. My mom will help me inside, because it's dark, and I can't see very well.  While I'm getting on the scale, she'll ask the support worker which chair I'm in.  The worker will either give her the chair number, or tell her to check the board.  Mom will take my sweater and my kitbag (which usually contains my blanket, my computer, my purse, and my slippers, if I haven't put them on) in to the chair to put away.  If I'm in a good chair, she'll give  me her standard "see you later" and be off to work.  If I'm not, she'll go off in search of the head nurse to raise holy hell.  I'll get on the scale, grumble because I don't like the scale, get my temperature taken, and go in.

Once at the chair, if I'm by a window, I will complain, and at this point, Mom is probably already yelling at the head nurse, as the light from the window, even on gloomy days, can cause me pain.  I wear shades.  A lot.  Sometimes there's a nurse waiting for me, sometimes there isn't.  I'll fold up my cane and set it on the counter next to the chair.  If I remember, I'll wash my arm before the support worker or nurse wrangles the blood pressure cuff on me, and check me in (sitting/standing bp, listen to lungs, feel fistula, etc).  If there is no nurse, this is when I start watching a clock.  I need to be on in time to catch the bus home.  If I'm not, I have to wait around the hospital for another 2 hours till the next bus comes.  The nurse will put my needles in, put me on, check all the numbers, chat a bit, and then is off to the next patient.  A support worker or student nurse will help me get my blanket and my computer, and they're off too.  Once I start watching my shows on my computer, the only sound you'll hear from me is a sigh, or occasional "ow" if I happen to shift my weight and my knee or hip cracks.  Sometimes someone hears me say "ow" and runs over to make sure I'm ok, but most times, they don't.  Usually I don't see anyone again until about two and a half hours in, when someone asks me if I'd like a cup of tea.

Usually, by the end of the run, I have my blanket and computer ready to be packed up, and that's generally done by a support worker or student nurse while I'm holding my sites.  A nurse will take my needles out, and then I'll watch someone stripping and cleaning my machine while I hold for 15 minutes.  When I'm finished holding, a support worker will help me take my stuff out to the waiting area, where the scale is, and get my weight, and then I'll run upstairs to catch the bus.

now, to me, this sounds more like your male observations than your female observations, but, like I said, I always thought I was a strange girl anyway.

[BobN]

Mr. Pink, great observations about male and female attendants.  Probably deserves a separate post of its own.  Any other differences anybody has observed?

Riki, I wouldn't call you strange.  I would call you brave and resilient.  Thanks for your very important perspective.