Conversations about kidneys are a speciality for Billy Mann
My face must look like it needs a good talking to. Every six months or so I attend a regular outpatients appointment at the Royal London hospital in Whitechapel to monitor the state of my kidneys. I suffer from a hereditary condition that, left unchecked, might result in kidney stones. Passing a kidney stone is not something I would wish on my worst enemy.
In the waiting room at my most recent appointment a man sitting nearby started asking me questions about his kidney and fished for information about mine. Cheeky bastard, I thought. He wanted to know if I was in line for a transplant, because he was sure as hell he was. He started talking about the different signs of kidney damage and their intensity I told him that right now I am able to manage my kidney difficulties by drinking lots of water. Two to three litres a day. He seemed unimpressed. "I don't like water," he said. I replied: "Any fluids will do. You can drink beer if you want." Then I realised that this man was almost certainly Muslim. Dohh!!!
'He was determined to believe his
own kidney condition was serious'
Riven with guilt, I moved the conversation on quickly. I started to mutter something about the miracles of modern medication but he was determined to believe his own kidney condition was serious and that death was but one more visit to the urinal away. I struggled on, trying to convince him that the doctors knew what they were doing and things are rarely as bad as you think they are. But he already sold himself the idea that his predicament was drastic and that he would require a transplant. I opened my mouth, took a breath and was about to tell him that it is quite feasible to live a full and meaningful life with just one kidney, when his consultant arrived and took him off for the designated appointment. My face must have looked like it had made a narrow escape.
