At my old clinic the staff gave us blankets on cold days, and on warm days they made sure we had ice to chew on because the clinic would get pretty warm and we were there for hours.
That was when I first started dialysis in 2005.
Thirteen years later, things are very different. After spending thousands of hours sitting in a chair watching my blood get drawn into a machine and cleaned, I think I’ve seen it all. Dialysis techs and nurses scrambling to cover too many patients; bugs and roaches crawling around spaces where we get intimate care; and, most terrifyingly, patients fainting right in front of me.