Saturday, January 07, 2006

Sufferin' Succotash (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying & Accept Dialysis)

Dialysis slithered into my clinic with a twinkle in his eye and a sly grin on his face.

You see, Dialysis had been lying low for quite some time. My arm hadn't burned in weeks. I was actually feeling somewhat refreshed after my appointment and felt as though I could manage a four hour air shift without lying on the floor during the commerical breaks.

But that all changed today.

It started with an elderly lady in a nearby chair who I had never seen before.

It was either her first historical appointment, or she was new to our clinic.

Either way, she was doomed.

Thirty minutes into my session, Dialysis snuck up on her and clamped his pointy, stained teeth into her Dialysis access.

"I'm suffering, I'm suffering," was all her tired body could mutter.

"I don't want to suffer like this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore."

This is a mantra I've heard before and it sends a chill through my soul.

According to contemporary medical rules, when it comes right down to it and all you have remaining is the truth of your condition, legally you can sign a piece of paper and be done with the whole process.

Most elderly people who make this difficult decision pass within a week.

It's sad, but I understand.

Especially today.

Dialysis is a true student of the art of acting. He slicked back his hair, adorned his frail frame with a lab coat and applied spectacles to his yellowed eyes.

He sauntered around the clinic with his hands clasped behind his back, a sly grin the only hint to what he was planning.

And then he struck.

My entire body started to boil. I could barely breathe. I wanted to leap from my skin.

I finally managed to get one of the tech's attention and requested some oxygen.

They laid me back in my chair as Dialysis started to tease me with small cramps in my chest, jaw and groin.

I clenched my teeth and my vision blurred. The room started to spin.

The last image I remember before mometarily blacking out was Dialysis flinging off his lab coat, throwing his glasses to the floor and cackling mightily as he pranced around my chair.


As the oxygen started to infiltrate my system and the machine was placed in pause, I could see Dialysis gain in mass. He towered over me as every feature on his face grew.

Dialysis was ecstatic, but only for the next few moments.

My body temperature started to cool down and my blood pressure returned to normal.

Dialysis started to frown and quickly glanced around in anticipation of what was about to happen.

As he shrank back to normal size, his sinister smile returned and before he slithered away he whispered into my ear...

"What's the point?"

His newly frail body sank into the shadows behind my Dialysis machine as I scrambled for an answer.

And at that very moment, as I struggled to gain some fathom of composure, I realized I didn't have one.

The realization of my situation became regrettably clear.

Dialysi has already won.

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