Bob's Blogs - Bob Northam

I Got This

10/2/2015

Bob Here.

"I Got This," said the guy in the TV commercial, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wife cringe.

Truth be told, she all but curled up into a fetal position. "Make it stop," she muttered.

This scenario may seem weird to some, but I completely understood what was going on and I couldn't help but give a little laugh.

You see, despite years, ok, decades of ineptitude at involvement with anything technical and pretending that everything was ok despite impending doom, I've been known to confidently avow that "I Got This" when faced with a new challenge.

My use of the phrase came to light recently with, what I must admit were fairly predictable results

Pee, as in PLEASE!

9/4/2015

Bob Here.

As I was rat-a-tatting away at the keyboard, working on this blog, a picture of my mother suddenly flashed in front of me.

Now, this was not just a random wandering of the mind, although I am inflicted with those at an alarmingly increasing frequency these days.

It was as if Mom was actually standing at the side of my desk. What made it doubly realistic is that she was wagging her finger with a look of severe disapproval, a situation I found myself in quite often as a youth.

As an adult too, for that matter.

I could also hear her voice quite clearly.

She was saying, "Robert (I was only Robert when I was in trouble), do you really think the act of excreting is an appropriate subject for a public blog??"

#ohwowaflood

7/31/2015

Bob Here.

I think it’s safe to say that dialysis patients are no more likely than “normal” people to be victims of some of man and nature’s more common unpleasant surprises.

You know. Such little inconveniences as wildfires, earthquakes, tornadoes, blizzards, tsunamis, pestilence, nuclear detonations, etc. etc.

There is a not-so-natural disaster where we just might beat the odds, however, and it would be one that makes it so we can’t “just keep our heads above water” anymore.

Yes. I’m talking about the almighty flood.

Oh yeah, sure, all you non-dialysis folks are probably thinking about streets with water up to your armpits, levees breaking, and needing a rowboat to pick up a quart of milk at the local C-Store.

Chairman of the Bored

7/3/2015

Bob Here.

In the diverse world encompassing the variety of medical issues facing people worldwide, being on dialysis probably rates about a five.

There are definitely folks who are sicker. There are many who aren't as sick. There are some who are funnier, better looking, richer, poorer, better educated, more connected socially, and no doubt a large percentage who actually like and get along with their doctors.

But I'm here to tell you with my usual amount of unproven scientific certainty that when it comes to boredom, dialysis patients definitely rule the roost.

I mean, our wonderful medical professionals make us sit stationary for hours on end enduring a miserable treatment without at least having the good grace to bless us with a general anesthetic that would at least temporarily transport us to a time-killing unconscious state of sheer bliss.

Can you imagine?

Before the needles go in, they could just administer a gentle pharmaceutical nightstick, and the next thing you know, it'd be time to go home.

Mea Culpa Doc(s)

6/5/2015

Bob Here.

I quickly developed a love-hate relationship with doctors when I first started dialysis.

Love-Hate, as in, I hated most of my doctors and loved when they left my room.

Now, as with most relationships, there was plenty of blame to go around for the poor state of my dealings with these highly educated, personality-challenged folks.

But lately in one of my always-plentiful pensive times (you know the drill - long treatment, bored silly, lots of time to think, yada, yada, yada...), I've been wondering who should get the lion's share of the blame for a relationship that would be featured on the cover of Dysfunction Monthly Magazine.

And I came to a somewhat surprising conclusion.

Turns out, I have met the culprit and he is me.

No Passion for Fashion

5/1/2015

Bob Here.

I think that people in general always want to look their best. You know, put a good foot forward as they say.

One notable exception, however, is a person who is going for a dialysis treatment. It's probably safe to say that at least most dialysis patients could give a rip how they look during treatment.

In performing an in-depth analysis of this cultural phenomenon (in other words, pondering the issue while there was absolutely nothing else to do during a looooong dialysis session), me and my hot little brain came up with two potential reasons why otherwise decent people look like something that got run over in the highway when they report to a dialysis center.

(And keep in mind that there is absolutely no scientific basis for either of these possibilities.)

The Old Stink-Eye

4/3/2015

Bob Here.

It's really hard to show off any of your talents while you're on dialysis. And I'm talking about while you're actually having a treatment.

I mean, you're tethered to this monster of a machine, and we all know the slightest movement can cause the sounding of an alarm that can make you grind your teeth down to stubs.

I, however, was actually able to hone a new ability during the seven some odd years when I was having in-center hemo sessions. And that enviable talent was the knack for bringing out the old stink-eye from members of the staff.

Now, I recognize that some of you might not be familiar with the phrase, but I promise anyone with a spouse, significant other, business associate, friend, or even casual acquaintance has had experience with either giving or, heaven-forbid, receiving the old stink-eye.

On the Production Line

3/6/2015

Bob Here.

Having been on home hemodialysis for over two years now, I have to make a confession that became clear after I travelled recently and had to go back in-center for a treatment.

I have to confess that I'm now officially spoiled.

You see, the wife and I are so meticulous about every step when we're treating at home that going back to a center now makes me feel like I'm on a production line. It's like churn 'em up and spit 'em out with most dialysis centers. There's not a shortcut they won't take as they move you along the line and out the door to get ready for the next occupant of your chair.

Now, that probably sounds a lot worse than I intend. I should point out that I was an in-center patient for almost eight years before I started treating at home. And most of my in-center experiences were good, and I generally got along great with most staff members despite my tendency towards misbehavior when the inevitable dialysis boredom struck during these long treatments.

One time, I was about two and a half hours into my session and it was quiet in my center and I was bored out of my gourd. The guy sitting next to me had brought some gummy bears to munch on and they were sitting on the table in between us. He wasn't eating them at the time so I spontaneously reached over, took a few and pegged them at the charge nurse, who was sitting with her back to me about ten feet away minding her own business doing some paperwork. Then I just went back to reading my book.

Two For Your Trouble

2/7/2015

Bob Here.

I have a quiz for you.

What could possibly be worse than a smart-mouthed, inane, jester, wise-guy, bored-to-bad-behavior dialysis patient?

Give up?

Okay, the answer is two smart-mouthed, inane, jester, wise-guy, bored-to-bad-behavior dialysis patients.

You see, it seemed that whenever I spent a significant amount of time in a single dialysis center, sitting in the same chair, with the same neighbors, I coincidentally ended up with a "partner in crime" for behavior that, shall we say, pushed the boundaries of good manners and political correctness?

Random Ramblings

1/3/2015

Bob Here.

In celebration of the new year, I've set out to be more organized with my thoughts.

But, I'll probably start that after this blog is done.

So, apropos of absolutely Nut 'n Honey, here are some random ramblings, some about dialysis, some not, which I hope you'll find intellectually stimulating.

Or, at least not the ravings of a crazy man. Here goes...

In remodeling my home, I've added the picture of a squid on the outside wall facing the main road, designed our new downstairs bathroom with a nautical theme, and ordered return address labels with the picture of a lobster. All this makes me wonder if living this close to the ocean has gone to my brain.