Life Goes On, Thank God

Standard

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I go into a room with 32 recliners.  The people in these chairs are missing feet and legs, and some are missing their minds.  Some are old and near death.  You sit, a technician sticks inch long needles in a surgery enhanced vein in your arm.  A machine runs all the blood in your body seven times through a man-made kidney.  After four hours you can go home, dizzy, drained, and thinking fuzzy until the next morning. You have to accept this.  Some people give up and stop treatments.  They will die within weeks.  I thought life would be unbearable.  I am actually happier now than before dialysis.  I enjoy the small things in life more. Sunshine, my dogs’ wagging tails, my girlfriend’s laughter, a couple strong drinks, good music…the list goes on.  Life goes on, thank God.

Advertisements

God Damn That Hurts

Standard

Eman is black, sixteen-years-old with Downs Syndrome.  When they stick the dialysis needles in his arm he yells out, “God damn that hurts!”

We would all yell that if it weren’t for our pride.  He yells this out once for each needle, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  I know because I sit across the room from him.  The nurses tease him.  He yells back, “Shut up, Grandma!” 

He wants to marry Beyoncé.  He likes the Cowboys.  He once groped the red headed nurse’s rear end and she had to pry herself loose. He does things I would like to do.  God damn that hurts.

Enjoy the Small Things

Standard

People on dialysis can have what experts call “fuzzy thinking.”  I had this before dialysis so it doesn’t bother me.

I’ve learned to enjoy the small things in life.  Small bites of pizza, small shots of booze, and small breasts.  You never know what life is going to throw at you.  I think my girlfriend would like to throw bricks.  Fortunately my head can break brick and there would only be a small wound.  My aches and pains are rapidly trying to turn me into a old man. Thank goodness I retain the mind of a sixteen-year-old. That I hope never changes.

How to Quit

Standard

I’ve worked over forty-nine jobs in the Frederick County area.  That’s given me a wide range of work experiences, especially how to quit and how to get fired.  I now command salaries of up to nine dollars an hour.

At my last job, my boss, Jena, a rather attractive woman asked me to please get to work. I winked at her and said, “Jena, there is nothing wrong with getting a little behind.”
That was my last day there.

I have sales experience in jewelry, real estate, fire alarms, frozen steaks, furniture, and marijuana. None of these jobs was lucrative, but selling marijuana helped me to get laid once.

One of my qualities is that I take jobs that require mindless labor and no responsibility, and focus on getting to know my co-workers.  On the clock, I’m a real people person.

My main requirement now is that I work with women. My motto has always been: Work hard, play hard, but don’t play hard to get.  I’ve always appreciated promiscuous female co-workers–without them, I wouldn’t have had nearly as much sex on the job.

I’m currently seeking employment as a Mystery Shopper inside dialysis clinics.  Keeping a close eye on nurses comes naturally to me.

When I look back at my past, I can see that my future has to be better. It can’t be any worse.  It is always darkest just before the light.

Smoke and Needles

Standard
She was getting ready to stick big needles in my arm.  She asked me if I had smoked pot before I came in. She said, “Your eyes are bloodshot, you smell like pot, and you haven’t stopped talking since you sat down.”  I asked if she also worked for the FBI or the city police.  I told her nicely that what I do in the privacy of my own home is confidential.  She stuck the needles in, and I think it may have hurt more than it normally does.
I think more clearly when I am stoned. The trouble is, a good buzz lasts me, at the most, a half hour.  Then I revert back to my quiet, slow thinking self.

The Nurses

Standard

All the nurses at Dialysis love me.  I’m sure of it.  I am starting to love a couple of them, even with my girlfriend sitting in the lobby.  I will survive this kidney thing and then she will kill me.  The food she has cooked for me tastes like poison, but so far I am all right.  I tell the nurses when I think they look beautiful.  It helps to pass the time.  They are sticking big needles in my arm, so I try to stay on their good side.

Tales from Dialysis: The Trainee

Standard

She was a trainee. She pulled the long, razor-sharp needle out of my arm.  With a jerk of her hand she accidently stuck the needle into her own thumb.  The tech who was supposed to be watching her was not.  The trainee acted like it never happened.  When she pulled her glove off, the blood was forming into a bead on her thumb.  She showed the tech . They stepped away from me and were talking about it.  I announced that I saw her stick her finger.  They were caught red-handed.  The tech said that we would have to fill out paperwork.  Have my blood tested.  I told him except for illegal drugs my blood is clean.