Bob Here.
For those of you previously bowled over by my revelation that there are differences between men and women dialysis patients, prepare to be further amazed.
I have an extension to that remarkable finding, and I'm ready to unveil it now, even though there are no TV cameras, prominent authors wanting to write a book, newspaper reporters, or any of the other hullabaloo you would normally associate with such a momentous announcement.
Ready?
Ok, here it is:
There are differences between male and female attendants and nurses as well.
I know, glad you were sitting down, right?
I know what you're all probably thinking right now.
You're thinking, oh thank heaven he didn't restrict his gender difference observations to just patients over all these years. Think of the loss to science.
For those of you previously bowled over by my revelation that there are differences between men and women dialysis patients, prepare to be further amazed.
I have an extension to that remarkable finding, and I'm ready to unveil it now, even though there are no TV cameras, prominent authors wanting to write a book, newspaper reporters, or any of the other hullabaloo you would normally associate with such a momentous announcement.
Ready?
Ok, here it is:
There are differences between male and female attendants and nurses as well.
I know, glad you were sitting down, right?
I know what you're all probably thinking right now.
You're thinking, oh thank heaven he didn't restrict his gender difference observations to just patients over all these years. Think of the loss to science.
No, I've taken extensive notes on the subject.
(That is, if you consider going back over almost 25 years worth of dialysis memories referring to notes.)
Fact is, when you're on dialysis as long as I have been, you have a pretty extensive basis to work from on all these observations, although granted, I tend to remember the more offbeat ones a little more clearly.
One time, in my first bout with dialysis many moons ago (remember I had a transplant that lasted almost 17 years in between dialysis eras), I was in the midst of my treatment and felt a bout of nausea coming on, not an unusual occurrence in those days.
Anyway, both a male and female attendant came over to check on me.
"How do you feel?" said the girl.
"Like I'm going to hork up a dinner role," I replied with my usual lack of tact.
The guy attendant thought this was immensely funny and was laughing heartily, while the girl had a look of pure disgust.
"That's gross," she said.
"It's not gross," I said, doing my best to look hurt. "Heck, gross is when you go to kiss your great grandma good night and she sticks her tongue down your throat. That's gross!!"
She just made an 'ugh' sound and went on making entries into the computer while the guy was busting a gut laughing.
"Well, I'm sorry, but you asked how I felt," I said.
She said, "Well I expected to be taken seriously."
"I did take you seriously," I said, again adopting my offended air.
She just looked at me. Then she said, "There's no such word as hork."
I then looked incredulous. "Are you serious?" I asked.
She looked at me defiantly and said, "Use it in a sentence."
"Ok," I said. At this point the guy moved closer, not wanting to miss my answer, while the girl looked really sorry she asked.
I thought for a few seconds, then I said, "Whenever I feel congested, I just hork up a loogey. Then I feel much better."
Again, the different reactions were notable.
The guy was laughing to the point where he had to sit down in a vacant chair nearby.
The girl just gave me a look like she wanted me to crawl back to whatever rock I slithered out from under, and walked away.
"Do you want me to use loogey in a sentence?" I called after her.
She completely ignored that, but when the guy collected himself he came over and gave me a high five.
I should point out that a while later, she came back over and I apologized for being tactless. "Everybody knows guys are gross insensitive pigs," I said. (How's that for not sugar coating it?) She said, "That's ok," with just a hint of a smile, so I felt like I was on solid ground.
Believe me, when you're on dialysis, it's not a good idea to get on the bad side of those that treat you.
But, her reaction got me to thinking about how differently men and women respond to the many types of stimuli that can take place, especially in a dialysis center.
The way the male and female attendants and nurses react to crisis situations is particularly interesting.
I'm thinking of two instances as examples, although they took place at different times, under different circumstances, and, in fact, in different dialysis centers.
(For those of you among the uninitiated, long-time patients rarely just go to the same center for treatment over their dialysis lives.)
In the first case, we were just having a normal day in the center, everybody's treatments were going along just fine.
Then, out of the blue, the unthinkable happened.
Unthinkable, that is for the guys and gals working in the center.
We got a visit from our roving dialysis auditor.
Again for those not familiar, most big dialysis companies have these roving auditors who pop in unannounced to check on whether the policies and procedures for treating patients and managing the centers are being followed to the letter.
Now the people who occupy these positions have ranged from the friendly types, who just come in, watch for a while and then meet privately with the charge nurse to make suggestions; to the louder, more overt types, who come crashing in like a bull in a china shop and who aren't hesitant to point out something the workers are doing wrong in such a manner that everyone can hear, from the other nurses and attendants, to all the patients, the receptionist, and just about everyone into the next county.
Well, the auditor in this instance was a prime example of the latter personality type. When she made a correction, everybody, and I mean everybody knew about it. She was about as popular as Jack the Ripper among the people who worked in the center.
She had a commanding way about her that left no doubt where she stood.
If someone told me that she worked for the SS in a prior life, I would have believed it easily.
My attendant that day was a young man, and to say that this auditor intimidated him was a vast understatement. And, unfortunately for him, this woman honed in on him as soon as she walked in that day.
She hawked over his every move while he was putting a patient on, taking another off, checking vitals, entering data on the computers, and so on.
And she found fault in just about everything.
Well, to say this young man was in a state is putting it mildly.
So, he finally got to a point where all his patients were holding steady. He went to sit down when sure enough a machine alarm went off.
He jumped up, the auditor watching closely, went to come quickly around the side of the desk where he was sitting, and promptly tripped over his own feet and fell down, went to get up, slipped and fell again, then got up, ran over to the machine that was alarming, slipped again and almost knocked the machine over, banging into the side of the patient's chair, causing her to give off an "Oh My!", then finally calmed himself long enough to reset the machine.
Of course, he turned around and the stern-looking auditor was making notes on her clipboard, which increased his anxiety.
The poor guy then came over to put my readings in the computer.
While he was doing that, I said, "So, are you ready for a shower?"
He relaxed a little bit and gave off a slight laugh. I looked over and even the auditor was suppressing a smile. Then she went off and did something else, figuring that she had ridden him enough.
The other example also involved a day where an auditor was present, again in a different center.
The nurse that day was a woman who I had truly never seen the least bit flustered, even during dire medical emergencies, which as you might imagine, happen quite frequently in dialysis centers.
Well, one of the attendants had put some blood samples in the centrifuge and started it spinning, and the machine must have malfunctioned because a small puff of smoke came out of it.
The young attendants then went into a routine that would have made the Keystone Cops proud, everybody on edge because of the auditor, variably saying they should slow it down, turn it off, no the samples weren't finished yet, holding its sides, running back and forth. One even wanted to pour water on it.
Then, in the midst of the bedlam, the nurse calmly got up from the desk, walked over to the still smoking machine and pulled the plug out. Then she said, "Put the samples in the backup centrifuge in the reuse room." Then she went back to her desk and continued working.
I had to laugh. And, at the risk of a gross generalization, conclude that women were better than men in crisis situations.
Thanks for reading. Take care.
(That is, if you consider going back over almost 25 years worth of dialysis memories referring to notes.)
Fact is, when you're on dialysis as long as I have been, you have a pretty extensive basis to work from on all these observations, although granted, I tend to remember the more offbeat ones a little more clearly.
One time, in my first bout with dialysis many moons ago (remember I had a transplant that lasted almost 17 years in between dialysis eras), I was in the midst of my treatment and felt a bout of nausea coming on, not an unusual occurrence in those days.
Anyway, both a male and female attendant came over to check on me.
"How do you feel?" said the girl.
"Like I'm going to hork up a dinner role," I replied with my usual lack of tact.
The guy attendant thought this was immensely funny and was laughing heartily, while the girl had a look of pure disgust.
"That's gross," she said.
"It's not gross," I said, doing my best to look hurt. "Heck, gross is when you go to kiss your great grandma good night and she sticks her tongue down your throat. That's gross!!"
She just made an 'ugh' sound and went on making entries into the computer while the guy was busting a gut laughing.
"Well, I'm sorry, but you asked how I felt," I said.
She said, "Well I expected to be taken seriously."
"I did take you seriously," I said, again adopting my offended air.
She just looked at me. Then she said, "There's no such word as hork."
I then looked incredulous. "Are you serious?" I asked.
She looked at me defiantly and said, "Use it in a sentence."
"Ok," I said. At this point the guy moved closer, not wanting to miss my answer, while the girl looked really sorry she asked.
I thought for a few seconds, then I said, "Whenever I feel congested, I just hork up a loogey. Then I feel much better."
Again, the different reactions were notable.
The guy was laughing to the point where he had to sit down in a vacant chair nearby.
The girl just gave me a look like she wanted me to crawl back to whatever rock I slithered out from under, and walked away.
"Do you want me to use loogey in a sentence?" I called after her.
She completely ignored that, but when the guy collected himself he came over and gave me a high five.
I should point out that a while later, she came back over and I apologized for being tactless. "Everybody knows guys are gross insensitive pigs," I said. (How's that for not sugar coating it?) She said, "That's ok," with just a hint of a smile, so I felt like I was on solid ground.
Believe me, when you're on dialysis, it's not a good idea to get on the bad side of those that treat you.
But, her reaction got me to thinking about how differently men and women respond to the many types of stimuli that can take place, especially in a dialysis center.
The way the male and female attendants and nurses react to crisis situations is particularly interesting.
I'm thinking of two instances as examples, although they took place at different times, under different circumstances, and, in fact, in different dialysis centers.
(For those of you among the uninitiated, long-time patients rarely just go to the same center for treatment over their dialysis lives.)
In the first case, we were just having a normal day in the center, everybody's treatments were going along just fine.
Then, out of the blue, the unthinkable happened.
Unthinkable, that is for the guys and gals working in the center.
We got a visit from our roving dialysis auditor.
Again for those not familiar, most big dialysis companies have these roving auditors who pop in unannounced to check on whether the policies and procedures for treating patients and managing the centers are being followed to the letter.
Now the people who occupy these positions have ranged from the friendly types, who just come in, watch for a while and then meet privately with the charge nurse to make suggestions; to the louder, more overt types, who come crashing in like a bull in a china shop and who aren't hesitant to point out something the workers are doing wrong in such a manner that everyone can hear, from the other nurses and attendants, to all the patients, the receptionist, and just about everyone into the next county.
Well, the auditor in this instance was a prime example of the latter personality type. When she made a correction, everybody, and I mean everybody knew about it. She was about as popular as Jack the Ripper among the people who worked in the center.
She had a commanding way about her that left no doubt where she stood.
If someone told me that she worked for the SS in a prior life, I would have believed it easily.
My attendant that day was a young man, and to say that this auditor intimidated him was a vast understatement. And, unfortunately for him, this woman honed in on him as soon as she walked in that day.
She hawked over his every move while he was putting a patient on, taking another off, checking vitals, entering data on the computers, and so on.
And she found fault in just about everything.
Well, to say this young man was in a state is putting it mildly.
So, he finally got to a point where all his patients were holding steady. He went to sit down when sure enough a machine alarm went off.
He jumped up, the auditor watching closely, went to come quickly around the side of the desk where he was sitting, and promptly tripped over his own feet and fell down, went to get up, slipped and fell again, then got up, ran over to the machine that was alarming, slipped again and almost knocked the machine over, banging into the side of the patient's chair, causing her to give off an "Oh My!", then finally calmed himself long enough to reset the machine.
Of course, he turned around and the stern-looking auditor was making notes on her clipboard, which increased his anxiety.
The poor guy then came over to put my readings in the computer.
While he was doing that, I said, "So, are you ready for a shower?"
He relaxed a little bit and gave off a slight laugh. I looked over and even the auditor was suppressing a smile. Then she went off and did something else, figuring that she had ridden him enough.
The other example also involved a day where an auditor was present, again in a different center.
The nurse that day was a woman who I had truly never seen the least bit flustered, even during dire medical emergencies, which as you might imagine, happen quite frequently in dialysis centers.
Well, one of the attendants had put some blood samples in the centrifuge and started it spinning, and the machine must have malfunctioned because a small puff of smoke came out of it.
The young attendants then went into a routine that would have made the Keystone Cops proud, everybody on edge because of the auditor, variably saying they should slow it down, turn it off, no the samples weren't finished yet, holding its sides, running back and forth. One even wanted to pour water on it.
Then, in the midst of the bedlam, the nurse calmly got up from the desk, walked over to the still smoking machine and pulled the plug out. Then she said, "Put the samples in the backup centrifuge in the reuse room." Then she went back to her desk and continued working.
I had to laugh. And, at the risk of a gross generalization, conclude that women were better than men in crisis situations.
Thanks for reading. Take care.