I really like Smiley, Happy Clinic Manager. I've had interaction with her before, when she was a Nurse on the clinic floor. She always seemed to possess the perfect personality that every Nurse should have (and a majority don't.) Intelligent. Competence. Always with a smile or a joke to share.
Plus, she doesn't ask me to her office every three weeks to talk about what's in my blog. How did you find out anyway? Gee whiz.
I must now take a few moments of your incredibly valuable time to share with you why I despise Redneck Douchebag Fucktard. Be patient. It will be over soon.
My first introduction was last Thanksgiving. He possessed an unkempt goatee which hid his bulbous, massive, and extremely loud piehole.
The entire three hours, as I'm trying take in the second season of "The West Wing" all I hear is continual, uninterrupted, verbal diarrhea. Every statement was about the "$20 Wal-Mart Thanksgiving meal."
Oh my dear God in heaven, hallowed be thy name, if you don't come down her right now and stick a holy cork in this fucker, I'm going to strangle him with his blood lines. Right now. No waiting. The first strangulation at an American Dialysis clinic. In history.
I could see right through his inane antics. He was trying to get someone, anyone, patient or otherwise, to invite him to Thanksgiving dinner.
I'm proud to say the patrons of my clinic were too smart to fall for that.
I spoke to the Front Desk Receptionist (also very kind and smiley, it must be an epidemic, because there is no smiling at Dialysis) and told her absolutely, positively, under no circumstances, I don't care if its the last Dialysis Chair on Earth, I am NOT to be seated next to Redneck Douchebag Fucktard.
That lasted two treatments.
In my history at my present Dialysis clinic, I've only been forced to write letters three times, one in each of the last three years:
1) Having the speakers on the TV's operating is a safety hazards to patients, because its difficult to get a tech's attention when The Redneck Twins won't turn down the wrestling.
2) Can we please have internet? Pretty please. I won't write about you for at least a month.
3) The letter I'm about to share, having to do with, well, you already know.
Dear Smiley Clinic Manager,
I am writing today to file an official complaint against Redneck Douchebag Fucktard, the most annoying patient in the history of Dialysis.
Every single treatment I am seated in the vicinity of this cretin and forced to endure his foul, entirely ignorant, occasionally racist and sexist comments regarding just about everything within his paunchy view.
I have spoken to the administrative staff at the front desk and the staff in-clinic and no one seems to want to make any effort to move his gelatinous mass away from me.
Now I know what your first statement is going to be: "I see Stacy that he's seated directly across from you, nowhere in your vicinity."
And that's where you would be wrong. Wholeheartedly wrong.
Everything RDF says, he yells. At full volume. To no one in particular. Because he's desperate for attention or mentally insane, I don't know. But try to lose yourself in a great film or quality TV show and it's impossible. I've even purchased noise cancelling headphones and RDF has the annoying ability to make all the money I spent useless.
When it comes to my DVD's its all I have. The one shred of fight I have against my consistent, voluminous, and never ending needle pain.
RDF steals this from me. Rips it from me and slams it against the wall. And all the while, he's smiling with that mindless grin of his.
Today though. Today was the final straw.
Tall, Bland Tech (who has no idea what he's doing) inserted my needles incorrectly again and caused them to vibrate. That's right. Vibrate. Inside my access. Fun stuff.
No staff was in the vicinity, so I uttered, "Help! Help!"
Across the clinic floor, I hear, in a whiny voice, "Help! Help!"
That's right. RDF was mocking me.
I am vehemently requesting that he either be moved off of my shift (I can't change due to work) or moved to Chairs 2, 3, or 4. Those are diagonal from my chair where I always sit and he's much less intrusive.
I thank you for your time and for taking this debiliating issue seriously.