His cozy Shoreline office is more folksy, less stressful - fun like dentistry used to be when he first started out in 1971. Hamada designed and built the calming, shrub-filled indoor fountains in the new waiting room himself. The price Hamada pays for life is higher than for most. The cost most precious is not measured in money, but in the time he spends coaxing his body to live. Three afternoons a week, the Hamada sunroom hums with the cleansing buzz of the dialysis machines, leased through Medicare.
Dialysis is now an intimate part of life.
Joan dons jeans, a sweatshirt and surgical gloves and spends an hour flushing the equipment and purifying the water used to remove the excess fluid and toxins his kidneys no longer can. For thirst, he eats ice to avoid drinking water. Hamada can treat his last patient and be ready to start dialysis within a half-hour because of Joan's preparation. He grimaces as he pushes them one by one under his skin. Each of the wide-tip needles is attached to a tube.