Wednesday, June 15, 2011

It goes without asking

I am sure that when my husband called at 6:00 to tell me he was on his way home, he thought I would pull out my angry voice (since dinner is typically served at 6:00). He casually slid the words "plasma donation" into his excuse, as some sort of phone call equivalent to the old "Be nice to me, I gave blood today" stickers. Since I had been busy puttering around the house, with a belly full of fresh picked strawberries, I really hadn't even entertained the idea of getting dinner started (he does not necessarily need to know when that happens).

As I hung up the phone, I did recall him telling me awhile back that the Red Cross, no longer satisfied with his blood donations, was now after his plasma...whatever that means. This reminded me of just one of the many ways in which my husband is a finer human being than I am, which is annoying because it distracts me from all of the ways in which I find myself to be superior. I would like to want to give blood. I would like to think that some cookies and juice would be all I'd need to put myself back together after such a thing.

I have had numerous successful blood draws, excluding the one when I had mono and a very unsteady walk back to my car. I am convinced that had more to do with the mono cells attacking my body (yes, that is what my high school and college level anatomy classes taught me...mono cells? sorry to my professor!) than anything having to do with the actual needle. I had one other bad bloodwork experience. When I had my blood drawn at the beginning of my first pregnancy, the tech asked me a few times if I had any problems with bloodwork. I told her I did not, because I really hadn't. Since it was my first pregnancy, I had no experience with just how much blood she planned to swipe from me...oops. I did not pass out but apparently stopped looking very well at vial forty-two, after I might've accidentally glanced over thinking things were about finished. The woman got a bit pissy, and of course I felt badly at the time. Whatever. For the past fourteen years, I have laid down every time I have had blood drawn, as a precaution.

Back to my universal donor of a husband...He comes in the door with a red band crossed around each of his arms at the elbow pit. (You know where I mean, right?) Now I already knew from his phone call that things had taken longer than expected, and quite honestly, that was all I really needed or wanted to know. He mentioned it again. In an attempt to show some interest, I stuck to a topic I could manage, and asked where the place was located. Lame, I know. During dinner he announced that it was weird to be pinned down for an hour without even being able to scratch an itch if you had one. Nobody jumped at the chance to delve deeper into the topic. So then he told us which movie he watched during the transaction. It was not one I have ever seen, but I did ask if he was able to watch it in it's entirety (yes).

After a few minutes, the donor announced that it was weird to see the blood coming out of one arm, going thru a machine to take out the plasma and platelets and then going back into the other arm (focus on taco). This statement might've elicited a "hmm" from someone at the table. I considered asking if we could postpone any remaining portions of the conversation until after dinner, but realized that I wasn't going to be any better, or eager, of a listener then.

A few minutes later, he went for it. (So stop reading if you wish, or at least put down the taco!) "So you know what color blood is?" "Mmm-hmm." "Well after going thru the machine, the plasma part looked like a big bag of urine...and the platelets looked like yellow frosting stuck in a bag." And with that, my taco filling all glopped out onto my plate, as I worked hard to not start throwing his head.

I hope the fact that none of the three of us asked him to STOP TALKING ABOUT IT counts for something, even if we did not ask him to please tell us more. Oh, and the cookies he earned? Lorna Doones, my favorite, on the kitchen counter unopened. He probably deserved to put us through a power point presentation on his experience. At least maybe this will keep him from exercising tonight...exercise...another reason he is a finer human being than I.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

No comments:

Post a Comment