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Someone Else's Blood

                 (me just before the transfusion)
I was thinking that today I would write a post about my blood transfusion (you know, for posterity sake and all) and since it's been nearly six months I figured I was past the trauma of it all and could actually open up.

No that's a supreme lie. It wasn't traumatizing at all. In fact it was kind of exciting. Of course that's just my genes coming out... every one in my family (siblings and parents) think that being through life threatening events is exciting and we like to take the tiniest threat and blow it WAY out of proportion so that everyone can think we were 
in real danger. An example would be when my dad flew home from Mongolia on Sept 10, 2001. We like to mention that he almost went to Afghanistan instead... like that would make us all cool or something.

So a blood transfusion ranks up there with the SUPER COOL in my family and as of now I am only surpassed slightly by my older brother who actually was in a war.

...

Alright, alright, alright and maybe my dad when he contracted Malaria in Africa.

But that's all irrelevant to the story. This story is about me, not them.

So... about a week after I had my little Remewin I started not feeling well (understatement) and went in to the doctor with some serious flu like symptoms--ie fever, chills, muscle achiness, and wishes for death--it was then discovered that their was some placenta still floating around inside of me. A procedure ensued and that's when things got a bit dicey.

The procedure was supposed to be an in and out thing, no overnighting it, but when I woke up they told me that when they had taken the placenta out I had started to bleed severely and they were going to need me to stay overnight. They wheeled me into my own private room and Ralexwin showed up a few minutes later.

He walked half-way into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. "Woah. You look like a ghost."

He touched my hand, "You feel like ice."

He looked fairly concerned (which is saying a lot, Ralexwin knows my family over-exaggerates). I probably would have cared at this point were it not for the fact that I was so very tired. I could barely keep my eyes open. After all I had just woken up from a drug induced sleep and I was missing a bunch of my blood... it makes a person tired.

The next thing I really remember was that Ralexwin was gone and the doctor was sitting at the foot of my bed patting my leg and explaining that I was going to need some blood and that she had to ask me before she ordered it.

I said yes.

The blood was ordered and probably an hour later the nurse came in with an IV full of the gooey redness. Now I've had IV's before... I've had a lot of them and I can tell you--This. One. HURT. They poked around in several places and couldn't find a vein (lack of blood does that) I had a hole in both elbows and both hands before they finally found one. One that came out every time I moved and burned and ached, but it got the blood in.

That night they emptied one bag of blood into me, then went and got another. They pumped me full of anti-coagulants to keep my vein from clotting, they checked on me every half an hour. I went in and out of consciousness, dreams merging into reality. Nurses and beeping, blankets and bandages.

I remember waking up and having my hair soaked with my own drool. I don't know how long I had been asleep but I had gone so deeply under that I had soaked my own hair! I was grateful that Ralexwin wasn't around to see my humiliation.

I was glad he wasn't there when the nurse helped me out of bed and I spent five minutes trying to walk three steps to the bathroom. Where the same nurse stood by my side to make sure I didn't fall off the toilet.

Every few hours my IV had to be cleared. So the nurse would take me off the blood and force liquid through a syringe into the tube sticking out of my hand.

I wasn't supposed to eat anything, but by 2AM I had begged the CNA's to give me some toast. It came plain, not even a scratch of butter. I practically inhaled it.

At 3AM the blood was done. Two units had been pumped into my system and my color and warmth had finally returned. I was so tired I could have slept for a week but my hand was throbbing so bad I couldn't even doze off. I very much wanted to go home or at the least talk on the phone with Ralexwin, but he was at home with Remewin and the others. Dealing with his own long night (Remewin woudln't take a bottle).

At 6 or 7AM The doctor informed me I could go home. Ralexwin met me at the hospital doors. I practically ran into his arms. I practically smothered my baby. I practically dove into my bed.

The doctor put me on a regiment of vitamins and iron pills which Ralexwin doled out like a drill sergeant. I slept whenever Remewin did (and sometimes between).

When I was awake I teased Ralexwin that I couldn't do work because my blood had come from a couch potato. I told him that if I broke out into Chinese it was because of my blood.

See, once it was all over with I had to tease about it. After all, I've got a family legacy to live up to and a couple of relatives to out-shine.

Comments

Jennifer said…
Your picture reminds me of the one taken right after YGC was born, when I was fairly pale from blood loss too. And, hey, MY placenta problem was much worse than YOUR placenta problem. Except that I didn't need blood. But who's keeping track?

OK. You win. ;)
Kaz said…
Dan always think that I am exaggerating too (about everything whether it be about me or the kids) but I never am:)- I am glad that everything turned out ok:) So we should talk one of these days and I lost your number again so I am putting the responsibility onto you:) So call me sometime -k-
Travelin'Oma said…
You write so well! I think a good storyteller has to have a streak of the dramatic to make it interesting.

My mom had to get a blood transfusion and a boy up the street who'd been in jail gave it to her. There was a bond forever more.

Back to kids. My kids tell me that 3 is the new 6. With 4, you're into big family territory!
cannwin said…
I get that reaction... especially when they find out I'm 29.

"How many kids do you have!?"

It makes me want to say, not that many, really. Its even better when I say I'm not sure I'm done.

hehehe

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