Drama, or so.

She lay in bed, both wrists and arms hurting from the numerous abortive efforts to drain her. She was almost immobile, not because she couldn’t move, but because there was no cause to. There was a pool of of her blood collecting on the floor just behind her, but she was uncaring, it meant nothing to her at this point, it was unimportant. She glanced at the man standing next to her, watching her, and then looked away again. He was merely doing his job, she understood that. She also knew she would get through this……

The other day after a brief sojourn away, I went into London to further my quest for increased bionicity. On the way there I Whatsapped my friend J to update her as I had missed my intended train. I had undergone this procedure once before, and it had gone without a hitch so I had no misgivings about having it done again.

By the time the 8th or 9th attempt to insert a cannula into my wrists, my arms, anywhere, had failed, I was so over the whole thing. I told the nurses to stick the procedure, I was willing to go ahead with my surgery without having it. I was in pain, tired (partly from my sojourn as I had arrived days earlier) and plainly fed up. I have a question for you medical folk. When trying to draw blood, why do you insist on saying ‘sharp scratch’? It is not a sharp scratch when a needle is inserted into your skin without any anaesthetic, and it is certainly not a sharp scratch when the said needle is jiggled around in your flesh in order to get a vein to bleed! It frickin’ hurts!

So my nurse Neil goes ‘Okay, we’ll leave the cannula for now, and just bleed you’ except my veins didn’t hear him, and just wouldn’t bleed. After a bout of tears during which he hugs me, I tell Neil I’m done, and he leaves me to rest, to recover. A different nurse appears with a heat pad to warm up my arm, she thinks part of the problem is the fact I’m cold, so she hopes by warming me up, they’ll get something out. I’m beyond caring, I tell her I’m not interested.

‘I hear you’re having a rough time of it’. I look up from where I’m seated, and there is J right in front of me. It is a total surprise, I had no idea she was coming. I ask her if she had an appointment as well, but no, she came all the way just to see me. I well up in tears again, and she hugs me, and speaks encouraging words. She’s been through this before, so she knows how I feel. She also knows they can use an ultrasound machine to locate a viable vein instead of playing ‘hunt the vein’ and poking me ceaselessly. And now I know too. So I tell the nurse, she can have one last try once my arm is warmed up, but no more. After studying my arm, she decides not to try, and opts for the ultrasound. J has brought me a bowl of frozen efo, and I’m looking forward to eating it once I get back home.

J stays with me while things get prepped, and talks me out of getting a sedative for the procedure. She says I’ll be okay with a local anaesthetic. She leaves when I’m called in, and it turns out she was right. So the line is inserted, all the blood they need is drawn, and everyone’s happy.

So what is this procedure? It is a blood exchange transfusion. Old blood is drained, and new blood transfused. The line is inserted into the femoral artery. Here’s a picture. Not just any picture. A picture of me. Okay, of my thigh. Or part thereof.

The thigh

And here is a picture of the machine that does the business.

The machine

Oh, the blood on the floor earlier? That was the old blood, the drainage tube wasn’t connected to the bag properly, and so it went on the floor, and was promptly cleaned up. Nothing sinister, just felt like adding drama.

I’m back! Thanks for stopping by Smile



About Joxy

When I'm not cooking or thinking about cooking, then I'm writing, or thinking about writing. I love misdirection....nothing is ever what it seems!
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8 Responses to Drama, or so.

  1. Madame Sting says:

    Pele o! Feel better soon. They don’t say sharp scratch over here. I’m to busy pressing my eyes closed and holding my breath to remember what they say.

    • Joxy says:

      Thanks a lot. The next medic that drew blood said ‘immense pain’ before the needle went in. She wasn’t exagerrating. Sigh.

  2. Jaycee (E.A) says:

    Awww, darling. I hope you’re feeling better today. I’m glad J told you about the ultrasound method. Poking around for a vein sounds really horrible.

    Sending lots of hugs and love your way, JJ. In your weakness, God’s strength will be made absolutely perfect in you. Love ya!

    • Joxy says:

      Thanks so much Jaycee. You have no idea how often I came back to reread thiis kind comment. I’m more bionic now, God rocks!!! Love ya right back 🙂

  3. Naija Mom says:

    Awww….. so sorry sweetheart. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain you went through. I hate needles. I’d rather have a box full of medication than have one injection. Meanwhile, what’s with the transfusion? Is it something you’re required to do once in a while?

    It’s good to be back. Have missed your posts. How’s the ‘E’ bunch?

    • Joxy says:

      Yay! You’re back to Blogsville, welcome! The transfusion was to prep me for surgery, I’ve only ever had that kind of transfusion once before, and hopefully, never again. The Ebunch are fine thanks, keeping me busy (and entertained too). Thanks for stopping by, heading over to yours shortly to catch up.

  4. Myne Whitman says:

    Just reading this now. I just came back from hospital a few days ago where I needed IV so I feel you. The nurse did give me heat pad an a local anastethic before she put it in, so it was easier. Take care dear, Hugs…

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