Latest in the "Only Could Happen to Me" category, I call my home voicemail this morning. See, I had yet to receive my blood work results yet and I was getting a bit antsy. Of course, there is indeed a message from the doctor's office, but she yammers something about "clotted blood" and to call her back. Turns out, that either the Dr's office or the lab let my blood sit and basically spoil. It clotted to hell and they couldn't use it. So…the severely anemic girl has to now go back in tomorrow (and be late for work again) to give more. Hello?? I don't have enough blood as it is, let alone enough to be giving multiple vials mere days apart! Arg.

It's blood people. It's not like it has the longest shelf life. You'd think that between the doctor's office and a lab, they'd know that by now. You can't just leave it out on the counter. *sigh* So, 7:45am tomorrow, I'm back in the office, giving yet more blood. My arm is still bruised from last Friday. (no matter how good the nurse taking it is-and this last one was wonderful-I always bruise. It aches for days) Joy of joys.

I know what is going to happen now too, I can just guess. The lab will get this sample this time-finally-and run the CBC. They'll look at it, blink and say, "That MUST be wrong." So, they'll run it again. They'll get the same results and be convinced the sample and/or machines is wrong. So they may try it again on another unit. At this point, they will have used so much of the sample, they won't be able to run the other tests they need to do and they'll call the doctor's office and say they need more. (Sound unlikely? It happened the last time I changed doctors!)

I'm soooo looking forward to feeling like shit tomorrow. I'm going to be dead on my feet. Not like I've been overly perky as it is. Gods, this week is only two days old and already I'm aching and dragging. I can't stand this fatigue. It's so hard to just ache from head to toe, but feel too tired to care. When you simply can't move and if you do, your heart pounds in your chest and you can't breath. Your head swims-it feels like it's caught on rough seas, bobbing up and down, back and forth. You can't hear because your blood rushing muffles your hearing and your eyes hang heavy as you struggle not to give in to the blackness that creeps along the edges of your vision. It's horrid. And, for the last five years, it's gotten worse and worse.

All I want to do is sleep. Just lay down and let hours, days, weeks pass. Sleep until I can get up out of bed. Until I feel like my body's not 500 pounds of uncooperative flesh. To breath and feel like I'm actually getting the air. Yuck yuck yuck.

~ flowers bloom near Memory and Dream at 2/6/2001 12:35:15 PM ~ ~