I’m back to the beginning.  Back in the beige walls and beeping machines.  Back to drips, needles and hourly blood pressure.  Back to being recognized by a tag on my wrist and my disease.  I am back but this time it’s different.

This time I know what they mean when they say my levels are low.  This time I go straight to the renal ward.  This time I can answer the questions.

I hate it here.  I hate the beds.  I hate the plastic pillows.  I hate that my face has already swelled up beyond recognition. I hate this soul destroying place but it saves my life.

Here’s my arm.  Take my veins.  Make it hurt to help me.  Then let me go.  Please let me go.

No sleep.  No comfort.  Hospital hell.