Gift of Life: dialysis
A reflection on 5 years of home haemodialysis
Here’s a poem I wrote a few years ago about life with a partner on dialysis. It’s called Gift of Life because for anyone who can’t have a transplant dialysis is a gift of life.
Brooding in the corner
With a square grey face
Flashing, twitching, beeping, humming,
Friend and tyrant, love and hate.
Injections in the fridge,
Boxes under the bed,
Saline in the sink
And bleeping in your head.
Keeping records, checking pressures,
Trolley ready, needles primed,
Tearing tape and folding gauze pads,
Pressing buttons, linking lines.
Cleaning, wiping, mopping, washing,
Upstairs, downstairs, making tea.
Carting boxes, culling cardboard,
Bagging rubbish, never free.
Hours and days and months and years
Of crisis, tedium, stress and fear.
But also at the same time giving
Life and love and hope and cheer,
Friends and family, new and old.
Films and music, books and plays,
Sunshine spring and autumn colours,
Cosy firesides, golden days.
