Saturday, January 26, 2008

Miserably Miserable

Surprisingly, I'm not referring to myself.

At Dialysis centers I've attended in the past, there was always an Us versus Them mentality between the staff and the patients. Thus, I bonded with my fellow sufferers.

Presently, that is not the case.

I was called into the early shift today and they seated me next to an elderly woman who was hooked up the oxygen tank.

As I was placing my items on the chair, I offered her a friendly, "Hello."

She looked at me like I had just crapped on her cat.

And this is one of the many reasons I loathe my fellow patients at Dialysis.

There is a subtle chasm between being miserable and acting miserable. This is one of the many lessons Dialysis has taught me.

As the needles invade my arm and my body adjusts to the trauma, I glance around the clinic hopeful to observe just one individual capable of defeating Dialysis' reign on their soul.

I was highly disappointed.

Crazy Goatee Guy was obviously off his medications again because every sentence was filled with colorful metaphors only he could define.

Elderly Moley Man was complaining about not having enough fluid pulled from his ailing form.

Middle Aged Afro Lady never says a word, just gives dirty looks when the staff speaks to her.

Trucker Hat Mute continues to creepily stare at me every treatment like he knows all my secrets.

Pouty Lipped Hot Blonde Chick grunts a hello whenever I greet her. She uses her fistula for the first time on Monday and is in for a world of hurt. If she were nicer, I might share my Vicodin stash.

Red Haired Albino immediately covers himself up once his needles are administered as though his cocoon of blankets will protect him from my laughter with the staff. He despises my presence there.

Know-It-All Intellectual Dude wouldn't stop talking about his obvious love and appreciation for the Confederate Army. The tech he was jabbering to just kept working and muttering, "Uh huh," over and over again. I found this highly amusing.

Clinically Obese Fan Woman continued to shove processed food items that resembled neither fruits or vegetables into her gullet.

Bearded Middle Age Schlub always gives me dirty looks from across the clinic and judges me when I'm in pain. He can pound sand as far as I'm concerned.

Deranged Santa Clone enjoys nothing better than watching wrestling. And he wants you to know it because he turns the TV up to full volume. When a tech asks him a question he screams every answer because he's a genius of the highest caliber.

Fartastic Snorer is just that. He immediately becomes comatose upon beginning treatment and is a decibel busting snorer. I find him entertaining because he'll fart loudly, wake up and mutter, "Huh, what?" and then gracefully fall back to sleep. Although potent, I will never forget him.

The preceding individuals are the main reason nobody ever comes to visit anyone at my clinic.

It's just too damn miserably miserable.

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