Blood for Bruises
In retrospect, I should have known it would happen. I've given blood many times before, and I always black out. Or come super close to blacking out. But who would've thought that several vials of blood would cause me to black out?
I spent several hours at the doctor the other day. I've bruised easily my entire life, but it seems to be getting worse and worse lately. Case in point. A few weeks ago I brushed my hand up against my ass and thought, "Owww." Now, that's not a normal reaction, so I went to check out this "Owwww." Sure enough, there was a bruise on my left ass cheek. Big, reddish purple, and ugly. It was one of those bruises that leaves a bump on you. Not good. Now the only thing I remembered doing that could slightly cause a bruise of that nature was climbing out of the backseat of a car earlier that day. And really, if I hit myself hard enough to leave a nasty bruise, I kind of expect to remember it. So I went to the doctor.
I love my PCP. That's primary care physician to you non-medical folk. He's fun, easy to talk to, personable. He goes to my church, has a great family, and he's Italian. I hold a special place in my heart for Italians. He sat with me for 15-20 minutes asking questions, checking my spleen, and researching. Then he took a sheet of paper with two lists of columns on each side of the page in about size 8 or 10 font. He started writing things down in the middle of the columns, circling a bunch of items, asking me questions, and then writing and circling more items. He handed the sheet of paper to a nurse, and said they needed to code it.
At this point I think they're going to hand me a coded sheet to take to a lab. Instead, they call my name and take me to a room in the back where a box of vials is sitting on the "bed" (it's not really a bed is it?) and 3 vials are already out of the box on the table. Okay, 3 vials I can deal with. I sit down and then watch in disbelief, horror, shock, and a slight bit of terror as she starts highlighting and checking off various lines on the paper all the while pulling vials out of the box. It seemed to be a never ending process. And then it started.
The tech was good. Super good. I felt a slight pinch when it went in, but she hit the vein right away and didn't have to poke around trying to find the blood. She switched between vials quickly. So quickly in fact I wouldn't have realized we were on a new vial if it weren't for the fact that I could hear her putting them down. I didn't watch. I couldn't. I didn't want to know how much blood I was losing. And while she assured me that the largest vial held no more than a teaspoon, it still seemed like a lot. Finally...finally...it was done. I applied pressure and asked for water. She left and I started to go.
After you've blacked out once, you know the signs. You want to close your eyes, you get a bit dizzy, the world feels like it's closing in around you. Of course if you're standing you collapse. I yelled...more like whimpered...for the nurse who rushed in and got me on a table/bed. Flat on my back, legs over my head, a wet paper towel on my head. I fought to keep my eyes open while apologizing. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't think it was that much blood." They found some diet Pepsi for me, which I drank while waiting to stop shaking. Eventually I left and ran into Walgreens to get a chocolate bar. It was one of the first times in awhile I've eaten a bar of chocolate guilt free. You gotta get sugar back in you somehow, right?
I had another lab appointment immediately after my doctor's appointment, and I didn't take any chances. I was only getting one vial drawn, but I didn't want a repeat. I lay down on the table, winced slightly as I felt the pinch, and breathed a sigh of relief that the world didn't start to close in around me. I finished the chocolate bar on the way back to the car. The chocolate was the only redeeming factor of those 3 hours. I don't remember the last time Dove chocolate tasted so good.
I spent several hours at the doctor the other day. I've bruised easily my entire life, but it seems to be getting worse and worse lately. Case in point. A few weeks ago I brushed my hand up against my ass and thought, "Owww." Now, that's not a normal reaction, so I went to check out this "Owwww." Sure enough, there was a bruise on my left ass cheek. Big, reddish purple, and ugly. It was one of those bruises that leaves a bump on you. Not good. Now the only thing I remembered doing that could slightly cause a bruise of that nature was climbing out of the backseat of a car earlier that day. And really, if I hit myself hard enough to leave a nasty bruise, I kind of expect to remember it. So I went to the doctor.
I love my PCP. That's primary care physician to you non-medical folk. He's fun, easy to talk to, personable. He goes to my church, has a great family, and he's Italian. I hold a special place in my heart for Italians. He sat with me for 15-20 minutes asking questions, checking my spleen, and researching. Then he took a sheet of paper with two lists of columns on each side of the page in about size 8 or 10 font. He started writing things down in the middle of the columns, circling a bunch of items, asking me questions, and then writing and circling more items. He handed the sheet of paper to a nurse, and said they needed to code it.
At this point I think they're going to hand me a coded sheet to take to a lab. Instead, they call my name and take me to a room in the back where a box of vials is sitting on the "bed" (it's not really a bed is it?) and 3 vials are already out of the box on the table. Okay, 3 vials I can deal with. I sit down and then watch in disbelief, horror, shock, and a slight bit of terror as she starts highlighting and checking off various lines on the paper all the while pulling vials out of the box. It seemed to be a never ending process. And then it started.
The tech was good. Super good. I felt a slight pinch when it went in, but she hit the vein right away and didn't have to poke around trying to find the blood. She switched between vials quickly. So quickly in fact I wouldn't have realized we were on a new vial if it weren't for the fact that I could hear her putting them down. I didn't watch. I couldn't. I didn't want to know how much blood I was losing. And while she assured me that the largest vial held no more than a teaspoon, it still seemed like a lot. Finally...finally...it was done. I applied pressure and asked for water. She left and I started to go.
After you've blacked out once, you know the signs. You want to close your eyes, you get a bit dizzy, the world feels like it's closing in around you. Of course if you're standing you collapse. I yelled...more like whimpered...for the nurse who rushed in and got me on a table/bed. Flat on my back, legs over my head, a wet paper towel on my head. I fought to keep my eyes open while apologizing. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't think it was that much blood." They found some diet Pepsi for me, which I drank while waiting to stop shaking. Eventually I left and ran into Walgreens to get a chocolate bar. It was one of the first times in awhile I've eaten a bar of chocolate guilt free. You gotta get sugar back in you somehow, right?
I had another lab appointment immediately after my doctor's appointment, and I didn't take any chances. I was only getting one vial drawn, but I didn't want a repeat. I lay down on the table, winced slightly as I felt the pinch, and breathed a sigh of relief that the world didn't start to close in around me. I finished the chocolate bar on the way back to the car. The chocolate was the only redeeming factor of those 3 hours. I don't remember the last time Dove chocolate tasted so good.