Reflections

For those who are unaware, I work at a Dialysis center. . . which is basically a temporary/long term deal. See, the only way you stop coming to dialysis treatments is to get a new kidney, or the other option. . . you die. We see our patients 4 hours a day, 3 days a week. That a lot of hours together with someone. When I first started working there about 6 months ago I honestly didn't think I would see very much death or that I would build such strong and close relationships with my patients. But as I have spent more and more time there, it has been amazing the events that have taken place. Over the past 2 or 3 months, we have lost about 11 or 12 + patients. Some went unexpectedly while others, it was a long time coming. Still, I was not prepared for the depth of emotions that come when you watch someone's existence slip into that strange sphere of time and space that you know to be our eternal place in the universe. This past Friday, one of my dearest patients with whom I was particularly close, passed away. He decided to stop coming in for treatments (which we call "signing off") and enjoy his remaining days pain free at home with his family. This man was one of the sweetest, dearest human beings I have ever known. He was always in ill health, and yet he was one of the most optimistic, happiest patients I've encountered. He would bring his family in and introduce me to them as his friend, Katie. Not his dialysis technician, not his caregiver, but his friend. As I read about his astounding life in his obituary today, so many small, inconsequential moments kept flooding into my brain like water running over the edge of the bathtub. A tiny touch on the hand, the way his face would light up when I saw him, his cute little cane, a simple thank you that was so sincere and heartfelt you just wanted to break all professionalism and hug the sweet little old man. I guess the point of this long, somewhat scattered mass of words is that life is amazing, and the only thing important in it is the relationships that we have, the lives we enrich. I don't remember what clothes he wore, I don't know what kind of car he drove. I remember the way his spirit touched mine and those small moments of two kind hearts connecting in service, in charity. I love my line of work. To be able to be with someone through a painful ordeal and to have the opportunity to make it just a little less terrible, to bring a smile where there once was a grimace of pain and fear, is the greatest joy I have ever known. Never underestimate the power of kindness and giving of ones self.