My 42nd birthday was last week. Forty-two sounds like one of those ages that we thought sounded ancient when we were kids. I told Boyfriend he could think of me as two 21-year-olds! :) He just better not trade me in for two.
My birthday always makes me a little melancholy. I spend too much time thinking about what I haven't done, how I got where I am, etc.
I never in a million years would've have guessed that I would be on dialysis, dependent on a machine to live. I've always said that I never wanted to depend on a machine to live, i.e., life support. This is different in a way. I live most of the time without it, but couldn't live without it.
Lately, I have hated going to dialysis. Most of the time, it's okay. Some nice people. Familiar faces. I'm used to the pain of the needles and the boredom of sitting there for hours. But lately, I've just felt resentful and bothered and mad. Part of it has to do with the way my center operates. It seems that our director doesn't know how to make a schedule. I can't even tell you how many times my appointment time has changed over the last year (almost). It's ridiculous. And the last few times I've been, I've had to wait for over 30 minutes to be put on the machine. Yesterday, I got there at 2:45, and didn't get hooked up until 3:40. Of course, yesterday was an exception. I was told that the transportation for the shift before me was an hour late. Well, no one even bothered to tell me until after I was hooked up. I could have spent that hour at home instead of sitting in the waiting room. Pissed off.
Pissed off. That's a good way to describe how I've been feeling lately. Pissed off at the fact that my kidneys don't work. Pissed off that I'm fat. Pissed off that I'm 42. Pissed off that my clinic doesn't value my time as much as I value theirs. Pissed off that my clinic director thinks of me as a statistic and a dollar sign. That's how I feel anyway. I guess this is another rant that's been a long time coming.
I listen to everything that's said at my clinic. I am awake. I'm not old and deaf. I can hear everything, and I listen. All she seems to talk about are their "numbers". The only time she talks to me is when she has to. And when she does talk to me, she comes off as rude or uninterested or self-centered. She doesn't even say hello when she walks by (and this is a tiny clinic--only 8 chairs). She's in her own little world. One time I heard her refer to me as an "out of network payer", as a reason to pay more attention to my complaint. They make more money off of me, because I'm not fully Medicare subsidized yet. Guess I'll see how I'm treated when my insurance status changes.
I feel a little better now that I've ranted some. I'll try to be more positive next time. :)