He’s been exhausted for months, nodding off between words and taking naps between naps while trying so hard to work. Just showering has been a work out.
“He” is my favorite person. “He” has cancer. Between treatment side effects and cancer bonus with purchases (Cancer bonus with purchase:that’s what we call the craptastic things that cancer brings along with it. It’s like Clinique, only horrifying.)
The latest bonus with purchase is severe anemia. A few months of bloody radiation damaged bladder issues combined with radium shots have been knocking his red counts into the “too pooped to pop” zone.
After surgery a few weeks ago his counts reached a new low. Last week the oncologist suggested a transfusion. We nearly screamed like lottery winners.
A few days later, lots of paperwork and typing and checking and my husband recieved an early Christmas gift. Your blood. As he sat in the infusion chair your blood dripping into his veins, his coloring changed.
The next day he realized he was having actual thoughts. Apparently, red blood cells carry oxygen to your brain and with limited cells comes limited thinking.
He can now take a shower without being winded. He can go to a doctors appointment AND stop at the store on the way home.
Your gift didn’t just save his life, it gave him back his life. He went from zombie man to sparkly vampire. (I lied about the last part. I knew Twilight was a bunch of crap.)
So dear donor, I wanted to thank you. Maybe you imagined your blood in an operating room, a trauma center… But let me assure you- the cancer center made excellent use of your gift.
It gave us back my husband for Christmas. You did. Your blood did. Thank you. You inspire me. I’m planning to donate soon. Even thought I’m a needle phobic freak. I now know what a difference it can make.