Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Woeful Wednesday ...

Most people who meet me think I'm a friendly, out-going individual.  Bubbly is a word that is used to describe me ... and I like that.

But I'm going to be honest here ... because it's the only place I put these type of things.  I'm having an issue.   I think I'm depressed.  Deeply depressed.  Thinking about talking to my doctor about medication kind of depressed.

I can't explain how utterly demoralizing dialysis is.  There's just nothing happy about it.  Not a single thing.  Oh, I had a "good" treatment and didn't cramp?   That makes it twice as bad next time when I think I've done everything right and then I do cramp.

That's not true ... there is one good thing about dialysis ... coming home to Stoney when it's over.  But the problem is that it's a catch 22.  Wanting to be home with him is what makes going in three nights a week so hard.   So the one good thing?   Is also the one thing that makes me hate going in so goddamned much.

This last week was just about the straw on the camel's back ... I had a three day weekend off off work thanks to Memorial Day ... and had to go into the clinic Monday afternoon in spite of it.   Honestly, all I kept thinking all day was, "This isn't fair ... I don't want to do this."

I know ... I know ... I know.   This all sounds like I'm whining and I need to put on my big girl panties and deal with it.   But it's not getting any easier ... it just gets harder.   I've tried reading ... I've tried sleeping ... I've tried making it an "event" and renting a brand new movie from Amazon so I feel like I'm doing something fun.  But it doesn't work.  Nothing works.

And I feel like I have a hundred petty complaints.   The "good" nurses take the early morning shift ... so people, like me, who work full time get the nurses who don't have the seniority to take a better shift.   So we get techs who obviously want to go home ... who want to do the least they can do.   No matter how many times I tell these people, "Don't put the tourniquet on tight or the blood will spray ..." they put that thing on super tight and then act surprised when my blood jets over them and onto the floor.

And Monday ... when I was at my lowest considering I just wanted a HOLIDAY like every other person in the world, I got to the clinic to find they had no air conditioning.  It was like sitting in a hot, humid stew ... surrounded by other miserable people who are sweating and hurting.   Meanwhile the machines are beeping and the nurses are, quite literally, ignoring everything around them.   And now I'm sitting here dreading going in ... because there's no guarantee it's even fixed at this point.

I don't have a solution ... other than getting "the call," there is no solution.   I've told myself this is a "mind" thing ... I have to be positive about it ... to get used to it ... to try to look forward to it.  But it isn't working.  Conversely, I dread calling my doctor to ask him about a possible pharmaceutical fix because that means I'm weak ... and, trust me, I'm on enough pills as it is.

So what to do?   I'll call and see if the air has been fixed ... and if not, I'll take in a fan.   I'll take in some sort of snack to try to make my time there a little easier.  And I'm thinking of re-watching Lost.   And I'll wait for the call ... because I don't know what else to do.

We came across a pharmacy
With its window busted out.
Pushed on through the broken glass
And had ourselves a look around;
The medicines, the medicines
that esculent macabre for the mouth.

The Taxpayers - Medicines

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