BobN
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« on: July 04, 2015, 02:18:20 AM » |
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Bob Here.
In the diverse world encompassing the variety of medical issues facing people worldwide, being on dialysis probably rates about a five.
There are definitely folks who are sicker. There are many who aren't as sick. There are some who are funnier, better looking, richer, poorer, better educated, more connected socially, and no doubt a large percentage who actually like and get along with their doctors.
But I'm here to tell you with my usual amount of unproven scientific certainty that when it comes to boredom, dialysis patients definitely rule the roost.
I mean, our wonderful medical professionals make us sit stationary for hours on end enduring a miserable treatment without at least having the good grace to bless us with a general anesthetic that would at least temporarily transport us to a time-killing unconscious state of sheer bliss.
Can you imagine?
Before the needles go in, they could just administer a gentle pharmaceutical nightstick, and the next thing you know, it'd be time to go home.
Now, I'm sure some of you party poopers out there are wondering about the wisdom of being kayoed mentally three to six times per week for hours at a pop.
But hey, I can only come up with the brilliant ideas, I can't deal with the ramifications too.
I mean, details, details, y'know?
Anyway, I know some patients have the natural ability to bypass the drug-induced coma route on their own. These extremely lucky individuals have a gift that evokes a true green-horned bout of jealousy every time I'm nearby.
They can actually sleep while they're on dialysis.
No. Seriously. It's true, I've seen it happen.
After I retired, I started on the morning shift in-center where you would naturally find some tired cowpokes among your patient peers.
My center started their early shift around five a.m., which meant that we were keeping hours normally reserved for nocturnal hunting animals, nightshift workers and vampires.
Now, dialysis patients by nature are not the peppiest people on the roster of humanity, but rousting them when the first number on the clock is a '4' makes us look particularly beaten and bedraggled.
The guy sitting next to me at the time could normally only manage a guttural grunt when I actually tried to act like a functional human being and said "Good morning" as we were being seated.
This man wasted absolutely no time with the formalities of getting started. As soon as he sat down, the legs would go up and he was out, sometimes even before his needles were placed.
Now, you've probably figured out that I am not one who could ever sleep while being treated. And after sitting next to Methuselah for a while, my amazement at his ability to do so turned to outright resentment.
Our regular attendant noticed me scowling at my neighbor one time when he was snoring away, probably chasing bikinis on some beautiful beach somewhere in dreamland.
"What's the matter Bob?" she asked. "Is his snoring bothering you?"
"What?" I said, breaking out of my reverie. "Oh, uh, no. No it's not bothering me."
"Well, what is it then? Do you feel okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah I'm fine. It just..."
"Just what?"
"It just pisses me off that he can sleep like that. What the heck is wrong with him? Doesn't he know that he should be awake and suffering like the rest of us??"
Don't get me wrong. On the rare occasion when the guy was conscious we were on good terms, friendly even.
Our attendant knew this and said something like, "Now you wouldn't begrudge him his sleep would you?"
I just sat there thinking about that one for a while.
Then I said, "Maybe we should play a little joke on him. What do you think?"
"What kind of joke?"
"Maybe you can wheel him out into the street! Then get ready with a camera to catch his look when he wakes up..."
She just laughed. "I can't do that. I'd get fired."
I said, "Geez. You're not much of a sport."
"Sorry."
"Well, maybe we can do something a little less drastic. Like put his hand in a bucket of warm water..."
She laughed again. "Forget it Bob." Then she walked away.
I thought, man, you can't even ask somebody to put a patient at risk to get a laugh these days. What's this world coming to?
So, I gave up on my plots to avenge my dialysis-driven insomnia and started reading a book.
I always knew that I was really bored when I actually craved interaction with others.
Normally, my thoughts about socializing are about akin to how others might think about getting their gums scraped at the dentist.
But in the course of one particularly long treatment, I was almost ready to reach over and purposefully unplug my machine just to cause some excitement.
But instead, I called out to one of the other attendants who didn't look busy.
He was a young man from India and he and I routinely traded good-natured barbs that kept the rest of the staff entertained.
He looked a little leery as he came over, no doubt wondering if I was setting up another of my airhead antics.
"What is it Bob?" he asked.
I said, "Oh, nothing specific. How about telling me your life story?"
"What?"
"Yeah. You know. What was it like growing up in India? Where'd you go to school? How did you come to the United States? What's it like dealing with the white devil? Heh heh..."
He was just looking at me.
"This is some kind of your foolery, isn't it?" he asked.
It may have been the extreme boredom or the way his question sounded with his accent, but I found it hysterically funny.
Suddenly I was laughing so hard, I couldn't continue with the conversation and he eventually walked away shaking his head. As he passed the nurse's station the head nurse asked, "What's going on over there?"
The attendant just said, "He is a loud and crazy man," and went on to do something else. Of course, this made me laugh even harder.
In the course of the ongoing fits of boredom, I always had a lot of time to dream up some twisted ideas of new ways to misbehave despite being tethered to a nearly immovable machine.
At different times, I seriously considered using my phone to either make phony phone calls to the center ("Is Mr. Walls there? What? There are no Walls there? Then what holds the ceiling up? Hah hah hah") or order up a couple of dozen pizzas for delivery, but I managed to keep those ingenious bits of Zen to myself.
And I know there are many ways to make the time go by without committing acts that range from just obnoxious to outright felonious.
I'm not much for watching TV, so I spent a lot of time reading, doing puzzles online, and making small talk with the staff and other patients who had the misfortune of sitting within earshot. I also would spend some time listening to music on my iPod.
While doing the latter, however, I occasionally had the unfortunate tendency to sing out loud with whatever song I had going. Once, after a particularly grating version of The Beatles' 'Day Tripper,' my female attendant came over.
"You know Bob," she said, "I'm really glad you retired when you did."
"Oh? Why is that?" I asked.
"Because now I don't have to lose sleep over you quitting your day job."
But every once in a while my usual diversions just didn't cut it.
I'd be sitting there pondering life. Then I would blurt out to anyone who would listen something like, "Hey, what do you think sock puppets eat? Toe jam?"
Then I would start laughing. Of course, everybody else would pretty much just go about their business.
Then I'd eventually simmer down, saying, "Geez, I crack myself up."
One time, another patient made me feel better about being overcome by boredom while dialyzing.
It was a quiet day in the center, which means there were no major catastrophes. Everybody was being quiet, minding their own business when suddenly from across the room some guy who I didn't know yelled at the top of his lungs.
"I'M BOOOOORED!!"
The staff all looked over at him then went back to whatever they were doing.
The other patients and I just kind of nodded to each other as if to say, "I'm right there with you bro."
So, I guess we can conclude that when it comes to dialysis boredom, misery definitely loves company.
Thanks for reading. Take care.
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