February 3, 2009
Blood transfusions are miracle carriers, for the infusion of two units has meant that I am able to resume life in the normal cadences enjoyed by most of the human race. When I went in last week, the whole procedure started with the drugs introduced through the port, and these included a large dosage of Benadryl that was to act as an antihistamine in case of allergic reactions to the new blood. What was not known until shortly thereafter was that this drug caused my legs and arms to twitch and flail uncontrollably and a nurse came in, observed me and said cheerfully, “I’ve had this happen before, and I’ll just put ‘allergic reaction to Benadryl down on your chart’”. It took a day to recover from the drugs that came with the blood, but then life began to pick up considerably, and when I had the CBC yesterday, it showed that my hemoglobin had come into the normal range, an increase from a count of 8 to 12.5.
In the wakeful hours of the first night with a stranger’s blood now flowing within, I had time to consider what might have come with it. Would my dreams introduce new characters and places? Had this person been a night worker, hence, the wakefulness? I had to think of this very same fluid warm and flowing about through another human who took him/herself to a Blood Bank and donated some of it without ever knowing who would receive the gift. A whole new appreciation and awareness is now mine, and when I see people who look tired and gloomy, I tell them that a blood transfusion would likely work wonders.
February came to Sanctuary with sunlight and enough warmth to melt much of the snow, but on the second day, it changed its mind and returned to very cold temperatures and leaden skies. The great Eastern ground hog saw its shadow and loud predictions of six more weeks of winter came rolling over the land. It does occur to one that we are giving consideration to the actions of a ground hog though thankfully, no longer reading chicken entrails to seek guidance for the future. I am not sure what the difference might be, though the reading bit might take more training.
Next Monday the second week of Chemotherapy commences, so this is the week of delight in life and all of the happy moments that it contains. Even Alphie appears to be more joyful – he manifests this by picking up a toy or sock and coming and shaking it about in an invitation to play – he was far more somber in the past weeks, lying at my feet much of the time and sighing a lot. So, in Charles’ words, “Onward and Upward!” Thanks be to God.