As soon as I stepped in the room with beds A-D the smells of the oldness of the hospital walked into my nose and stayed there for the next eleven hours. Although I was not staying the night and was scheduled to get two units of “O Positive” blood, the nurse still brought me a hospital gown and a bag for my belongings. As usual I smiled and said no thanks and removed my sweatshirt so she can begin to pull, tug, thump, and stare at my arms and wrist for a good vein. Of course she did not find one in the average spot the average person would have veins. But she located one right in the center of my balled up tight little fist.
Looking at the dried-up blood under the palm of my hand and in the cracks of the eating hospital tray I knew it was going to be a long night and sure enough the first bag of blood did not show up until 11pm, did I mention I arrived at the hospital at 5pm? So the first bag is hooked-up and flowing and the nurse gets a few sandwiches and apple juices for myself and my 16year old daughter who likes to journey with me on these late night transfusions. As soon as I take a bite of my dry turkey sandwich on white bread (yuk!) the other nurse in this tiny little room with four beds and a nurse station comes over to the bed next to me and proceed to change the bag of urine of the lady hooked-up to a breathing machine. Nope she didn’t bother to pull the curtain and I was too far to reach it.
This hospital is extremely old and nothing like the warm comfy chemo-room I go to an hour away from my house with the warm tea or chicken broth and heated blankets and cleaning solution smell roaming the hallways. But unfortunately I was moving very slow and had no energy and my blood count came back at 7.5 with is the “red-zone” for me. I function a lot better at 8.5 to 9.0 blood count. So my doctor scheduled me at the closest hospital to my home.
Well by 4am I was all done and pulling through Jack-in-the-box for my daughter who was wide awake and hungry. And by 4:30am I was back at home pulling off my sweat-shirt and crawling under the covers. Seems as though right when I closed my eyes it was 7am and my six year old was at my bedroom door knocking for breakfast along with my 10 year old asking for his new outfit to wear to school for water day. With very little sleep and very soar hand still wrapped in bandages from the very painful I.V. I rolled out the bed and opened the door. Once I got the three out the door I still had four more at home I had to deal with …..and two of them, my six year old and my eleven year is homeschooled and I had three hours until I had to turn in their home school books.
So! New Blood and a new day in My life as the, “Sickle Cell Diva”~