Have you ever been in a Kidney Dialysis Clinic?
For those who have, it is an experience you'll never forget. I used to work in a Kidney Dialysis clinic for over two years, until I had to quit do to an illness.
In this clinic, there were twenty patients. A row of five people facing another row of five people; a sectioned wall down the middle, and then a row of five people, facing another row of five.
There is no privacy whatsoever for these patients. People
on each side of you, just about two feet apart and of course you faced the row directly across from you. The sectioned wall was only about waist high, so patients had a view across the room. No curtains or barriers of any kind.
I'll never forget the day I walked in. My "soon to be boss" must of been reading the look on my face because she turned and put her arm on my shoulder and stated, "this isn't for everybody."
The more I looked around and became familiar with the surroundings, I felt a little more at ease. The staff were very busy monitoring all the patients, taking vitals, blood pressures etc...
But what I noticed the most was the staff and the patients for were joking and laughing and having some great conversations. This took the uneasy feeling I had and put it to rest. I could not get over the positive attitudes most of these patients had. There were a few younger patients, middle aged patients and some much older. But they were
smiling and carrying on. This just reminded me of some kind of outside family, which was exactly what it was I soon found out.
For the most part, the same twenty people had the same shift three days a week, anywhere from one hour to four hours. The patients saw each week after week, three times a week. They bonded; they shared their immediate family stories; their illnesses; their depression; their favorite doctors
and hospitals, and lots of advice on any subject helping to pass the time being hooked up to their machines.
I became quite attached to these great people. They were awesome. They truly inspired and motivated me.
One middle aged man that was a terrible diabetic, had one leg, and was the jokester of the bunch, befriended me quite quickly. I have a contagious laugh, so when he would hear me, I'd get him going. What a riot. He almost got me in trouble a few times because once I start laughing,
it's hard for me to stop.
Anyway, the weeks went by as usual until one day I noticed this man wasn't smiling or laughing. He looked as though the life was taken out of him.
Of course I asked what the matter was, and he replied by saying his other leg had to be amputated. He always told me if they took his other leg, that would be the end of dialysis for him...which meant he would die.
I never took him serious about that probably because I never thought it would actually happen.
I continued to do my work, feeling really uneasy.
I kept looking over his way, but he never looked up.
When he was taken off the machine and ready to go, he waved me over to him. He went on and on about what a great laugh I had and how I made his days a little brighter, so on and so on. He sounded like he was saying goodbye or something. I acknowledged what he said and patted him on the back while
saying "I'll see you on Wednesday." He gave me a half crooked smile and said,
" No Joni, you won't." "Have you forgotten what I told you about them taking my other leg and what I needed to do?" I told him to stop talking like that, and I said " I WILL see you on Wednesday."
Wednesday came. I kept looking at all the patients coming in and taking their usual seats. I continued hooking the patients up to their machines, while looking over at the empty chair and back to the door. All my co-workers
loved him also, so the mood was very somber, although we tried hard not to show it. Many of the patients were starting to ask questions on his whereabouts.
There wasn't any information given out by anyone.
He was serious. He wouldn't be back.
At the end of the day, the boss called us in and explained that he had quit his treatment, but also gave his phone number to a few of us so we could say goodbye.
I called him that evening and we spoke for about an hour. He had me laughing so hard about all the past stories he was telling me about when he was younger.
He was trying to make it easy for me! Of course, we finally made way for the conversation that I dreaded and couldn't for the life of me understand. Until he began to explain. Not that it made it any easier; I couldn't stop crying.
But his words went through me like a knife in butter. He gave me so much advice on how to live; keep your dreams alive; don't take life so serious, and of course he told me never to loose my laugh.
He explained he was at peace with his decision as well as his family.
He explained how he had the chance to tell the people he loved, all the things he never said before. Not to many people get the chance to do that.
He is by far, one of the most inspiring individuals I ever had the pleasure to meet. He will forever be in my heart. When I have those bad days, I often think of him and remember his words; his laugh; his smile.
His wish was granted the following day. He died at home in his favorite chair surrounded by his family.
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Contributor's Note
For some reason I was very compelled to write this story today. He must be thinking about me!
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