Cliches

Cliches

Clichés

It was one of those days where the weather seems to be just about perfect. Early Fall is often like that, such a relief after a long hot summer and drought; which we are still in with no real end in sight, have no idea how many trees will die. The worst drought in a century we are told.

I pulled up to the dialysis clinic; it was time to pick up Clarence, who received dialysis three times a week. A long grueling procedure that he has been enduring for about three years now; no complaints of course when you consider what would happen if he did not continue the treatments......death most likely within a week.

It is a community of sorts, they all know one another, most older but some are young, something I can't get used too, young people needing dialysis, it really saddens me when when I see them. One young woman who was going is now dead, leaving a husband and three small children behind. Most of the young seem to have kidney failure from undiagnosed high blood pressure. Over all six dialysis patients have died since Clarence has started going there, some I knew, others I did not have the pleasure in meeting. It saddens Clarence when they die; at times he will talk about them.

That day, as Clarence and I were getting ready to pull out of the driveway, a young man came up to me and asked for a ride, if it was not too much trouble; his appointment time was changed and his usual driver did not get the message, so he was stranded. I could tell he was on dialysis since they have a worn tired look about them; in the young it seems more pronounced, perhaps because they are expected to be vital, alive, full of energy, so when a young person is met who does not have that, they stand out. He was 28, quiet, and has been on dialysis since he was 18.

He talked very little, but did answer some questions if asked. Yes he had high blood pressure, the doctors think he was born with it, undiagnosed, the result being that his kidneys never grew, so he was a man with the kidneys of an infant, so for all practical purposes they did not work. He was waiting for a transplant, but the wait was a long one, so there is possibility that he could die before his time came.

He lived in a very poor part of town, and when I dropped him off it was in a very run down apartment building, one story, very old. He lived there with his girlfriend. I wanted to offer him some money, but did not, he seemed proud and did not want to offend him and he after all had his dignity.

Some times when there, I will be asked for money, or if I would make a run and get some food; some of them seem to be always hungry. Often they will ask me to buy them something that they should not be eating, but I get it for them anyway; eating is one of the few pleasures that seem to stay with us all of our lives. I don't always eat right, so I certainly would not turn down a chance to give someone a little pleasure, an innocent one. From time to time I will take Clarence to a Chinese restaurant, we all need a break, and it does not hurt him, as long as it is not done very often. There was one old man there who used to ask me to get him some chicken. He was skinny as a rail but ate like a foot ball player. He had a slow southern way about him and he always brought a smile to my face. He is gone now, but his memory is still very vivid in my mind. Another woman named Ann, she was only in her forties, but she to liked ame to get her a nice fish sandwich with fries (potatoes are a no- no) but I got them for her. One of the nurses told me that it did no real harm, since many did not follow their diet very well. She also is gone.

Peter had a hard life, more difficult than I could ever imagine. For most of my life I have been healthy and strong, with the usual nickel and dime stuff. As I get older I have some things a little more serious, but still pretty healthy. It is often overlooked how courageous these people are, fighting for their lives, trying to live as normal a life as possible, not giving up. True it is common, people trying to extend their lives, but it is a choice to keep on struggling even if the outcome is certain, a life shortened. Many people much better off will kill themselves, when perhaps they have a much better chance of having a full life; it is all a mystery to me, one I can't even begin to figure out.

Had a talk with a friend the other night, suffering came up, and he asked the same old questions about suffering, the why's etc., and I gave some old over used answers. When dealing with the problem and mystery of suffering everything after a while, because both sides are presented so often, in so many books, discussions etc., that it becomes just the parroting of one clichés after another; so I try to steer away from it. I am learning that it is not necessary to have all the answers, life is a mystery, a very deep one, perhaps all we can do is try to be kind, love each other, and try to lessen the burdens of others as much as we can. Even in that I often fail, but I guess all we can do is try.

My Faith helps me a lot, but in the end, the answerers if talked about become just more clichés.