kyburg | Be careful what you ask for.

I remember having discussions with

ceolyn back in the day, about our shared desire to be truly Good at something. You know, being able to put your hand to something and it always turning out Good. Art. Music. Dance. Something.

I'd love to be able to sing well. I've had too many years of people wincing, to be frank. Mom was a master of making me stop - I still check to see if I've had breakfast (middle of the day, end of the day, yeah) by telling me I'd cry before sunset if I sang before breakfast.

Even when alone in a karaoke room, I can feel myself trying to quiet the sound even as I'm trying to get enough volume up to hear myself. It sucks.

These days, I just smile and tell people I can't sing. Maybe I could. Right now, I don't have the patience and I get nothing out of trying but embarrassment. And frustration - because I have a reasonably good sense of pitch in the bargain. The sound I want is not the sound I get - and there you go.

But to be Good at something you didn't expect or want. Hoo boy.

I used to be surrounded by diabetics. Time has passed.

I'm now surrounded by people with end-stage renal disease. And I hated that part of the last years of Cliff's life, looking back immediately after he died. We never worked so hard. Never. NEVER. For what? He died!

Time has a way of changing the POV, though. He didn't die from the ESRD. He got septic from an injury and died. The ESRD and dialysis did a whole lot of good things, changing the entire landscape as it did.

But damn, if it wasn't work. He had to endure it, I had to manage it.

And I was Good at it.

I'm just now finding out just how Good.

*facesmacks*

There is a dearth of easily taken-in information on the subject of coping with reduced kidney function. There is a ton of very technical information - but if you just want lunch, what can you eat? What's too much? Why - and how do you figure it all in?

I can tell you.

What other things besides not peeing is involved? Can tell you that too. And why.

I didn't ask for this. And it's freaking me out a little. I shouldn't know this stuff. I'm not a medical health professional, I carry no other certification than my first-aid card, CERT training and long explanations about the school of experience. I can cut to the chase by saying I'm a nurse's kid - but even that doesn't cut it when I start talking about procrit, phosphorus binders and sorbitol.

But I asked to be Good at something.

I should have been more specific. But then again, G/T/W puts me where I'm needed, so no complaints.

I'll also expand that a bit. I have a good memory, and have spent most of my life in hospitals. When Mom wasn't doing bedside nursing, she was doing home care for VNA. Some times, we went along - waiting in the car, of course. Cheap childcare, back in the day - you'd never get away with it now, of course. You stayed in the car. So I knew enough about the patients (never the names) and knew outcomes.

And I read all her nursing journals. She took them monthly. She didn't think this was normal, but I did it anyway. I found the case studies fascinating.

If I tell you something prefaced with "In my experience - " I can tell you more if you press me.

I'm not telling you everything.

If you end up needing a procedure, you're going to be hit left right and center with information from the people taking care of you. Listen closely - it's called informed consent, and you're going to get every gory detail whether you're really indicated for it or not. But I'll also warn you - if there are things they can't treat, can't prevent if they crop up? Not very likely you're going to get that in informed consent. Because you've already been told "THIS COULD KILL YOU," they're covered.

I can't tell you everything I know. You may not need it, and it would only scare you or break your heart. And perhaps never apply to your situation. But know.

I'm not telling you everything.

I'll tell you a lot; hell, I'll talk your ear off. I'm better than I used to be, but still. Red pill or blue pill? Where's the green one? Isn't there an orange one? I remember there being an orange one....

And if I think you're getting screwed?

I know all about that too, and who to Tell. Oh baby. I Tell. Big time.

Only thing I can be sure of is that I can be wrong. So don't feel bad if you check my work. Matter of fact, I insist. Because if I'm not telling you everything, then there's something you need to find out for your situation, specifically.

I'm still gobsmacked that we lost Charlie.

And I'd rather be Good at tiddlywinks.