Blood Spatter

So after the drama of doing the high blood pressure monitoring thingummy on Monday and Tuesday, on Wednesday, I had an appointment to donate blood... for the needy, well, for the bleeding I suppose.

I beat a hasty retreat from work and travelled, in my own time and using my own fuel, to the destination.  I had an appointment booked, I arrived 10 minutes early. 

Twenty minutes later, when I was still sitting there, after negotiating the poorly signed system they had going on, I could feel myself getting wound up.  Despite my negotiations with myself, the fact remains that years ago, blood donors over here were encouraged to make an appointment to donate, rather than wait for over an hour, as I have done, to donate, out of the good of our hearts for no more reward than a coffee or a weak cordial and a biscuit.

And so, I was there early by 10 minutes and 10 minutes after my appointment time, I was still waiting and feeling agitated.  Shortly afterwards, my name was called, ran through the usual, name, d.o.b. address, last time I gave blood.  Minutes later, I was laying down on a bed.

I rolled up shirt sleeve and looked away, I'm not squeamish but I prefer not to watch the needle going in.  Male nurse did a great job, hardly felt a thing.  Then I heard, "sorry, some splash back and there is some blood on your top."  I looked down and to the left and there were four drops of blood on my shirt.

Reassured the nurse it was fine as I dabbed with a wet wipe, but this has never happened before, is it because I was worked up at my appointment running late?  Is my BP really high?

Bearing in mind that the alarm used to sound a couple of years ago because I was so slow at donating, (you have to give your donation within 15 minutes or they can't use it, and I always struggled to complete on time,) today, I'm at 4.something minutes, while I am a bit glad, I am a bit worried.

Another nurse arrives to extract needle, make sure that I stop bleeding and sit me up before I head for my coffee.

8 minutes and 4 nurses later and my arm has just about stopped bleeding.  This is not normal.  I have to get this under control.  I don't mention my BP and when the head nurse is satisfied that I won't bleed to death in my sleep, I head for a coffee.

I get home, take off the tape across my arm and hit the shower.  I need to gain control of my body, I need to work at relaxation.  This is ridiculous.

Nightmares

I am glad that the working week is over, it was long and trying and no fun at all, the highlight of my week was when the friend that I used to sit next to in my old job mailed me for an update, it was great to hear from him, and he made me smile from at least twenty miles away.

I have swung between sleeping 9 hours a night to 5 then back again, I've felt jet lagged all week, I really must try harder to re-adjust my body clock to my new timings.

I had an appointment to donate blood on Tuesday after work, I wasn't sure if I should go or not, but I feel guilty when I don't go and I didn't know how much of not feeling great is just sadness.

So I roll up at the church I was confirmed at, which is were they are collecting donations.  I've made an appointment rather than just sit and wait forever and it's like a military operation.  I'm whisked through for the pin prick test to see if I'm good to donate.  The droplet of blood the nurse extracts is plopped into the solution and is the most ropey looking sample I've ever seen in my life, it barely stays in droplet format and instantly frays around the edges, it floats for a few seconds then begins to descend to the bottom, not because that is what it's supposed to do, but rather like it doesn't have the energy to stay afloat.  "You're good to go!"  "I am?"  I'm shocked.  I know that if the droplet sinks, that is good, but did not expect sinkage today. 

Anyway, I'm in and out in thirty minutes.  And, can I add that I was chatted up over the orange juice by a quite handsome man?    And I looked like hell, so I get bonus points for that right?  I'm wiped out that night and cannot keep my eyes open past 8pm, which was bad news for the friend I was having a text conversation with.

Friday night I have a wine or two, make myself stay up until 9pm then head for bed.  Been having nightmares all week also, last nights dream was weird, but not a nightmare.  The last one I can remember is that my friend JR decided she wanted to go and clean Richard and Judy's house, (you know the married TV presenters?)  This is all without their knowledge, and I'm not in any way shape or form implying that they need a cleaner, anyhoo, we're there, I'm watching while JR scans for dust, when Richard arrives back in a Land Rover, unexpectedly, I think JR wanted to be in and out without detection.  It's a big old country house in the middle of a gigantic field.  The next minute, I'm on a cruise ship, (cannot think of anything worse,) with terrorists on it...okay, maybe that.  I'm walking past piles of people who have been shot and I'm playing Russian Roulette getting in and out of lifts, not knowing if I'm going to get into a lift, with a terrorist with a gun.  Before you ask, I have not been watching Speed 2, I haven't even seen it.  The nightmares don't wake me up traumatised, but it's not exactly restful sleep.

Torrential Rain

I have comfort eaten my way through the week, there were not enough Maltesers in the whole of the North West of England to cheer me up.  To try to counteract the Malteser after shock, I've been upping the toning every night, not sure it's worked though.

Work this week hasn't been too bad, lots of IT problems but while everyone around me seemed frustrated beyond belief, I just let it wash over me, what can you do?

Remember the old white haired man with the dog that says, "Morning Miss"?  Well he almost gave me a heart attack.  I was getting the car out of the garage around 5.25am on Thursday, got out of the car to close the garage door and I heard, "Morning!"  He'd walked past and waited for me at the next garden.  Hadn't seen him at all, so after a slight shock, I smile/grimaced and "morning'd" right back at him.  I didn't want to make him think he'd scared me.

I went to donate blood today, Thursday.  Hurt a bit due to scar tissue, I've been donating for 25 years now so it's only to be expected.  I can only put this down to enormous amounts of water, I drank about 1.5 litres of water before I went to donate, then they give you a big glass of water to drink while you fill out the paperwork and I gave my donation in 5 minutes 57 seconds, my own personal best.  You have to give in 15 minutes and usually, I have to squeeze a grippy tube to help pump the last remaining bit before the 15 minutes is up, otherwise, they can't use my donation.  One of the more mature nurses attended to me today, she's comforting, (even though she told me she took her cat to the wrong cattery while she went on holiday... easily done, I'm sure.)  She chatted to me the whole time and thanked me for coming, it's nice to see familiar faces when you go, reassuring.

I speak to a sister at night and she makes a passing jibe, which upsets me.  I don't get why people want to be nasty to each other, why go out of your way to be hurtful to another person?  I know that we can all say things when we're short on temper, which is bad enough, but at other times, do we have an excuse or are we just being a bitch?

It's Friday and I'm using a day's leave again.  I have a little bruise on my arm from yesterday, and it's a bit sore, but it's fine.  The rain is torrential and driving on the motorway is treacherous.  Visibility is very bad but thankfully everyone is keeping their speed down.  I park up, lock the car and I'm making a dash for it when I hear a garbled shout.  I turn back and see a woman sitting in a car.  Did she shout me?  I can't really see of course but I can make out that it's a dark haired woman and she's on her phone.  She waves and I'm wondering if someone is behind me, then she beckons for me to come back towards her car.  As I get nearer, I realise it's my friend Carol and I get in her car out of the rain. 

Carol finishes on the phone, explains what she's doing there (on way to Manchester but weather so bad and flood warnings for later so she diverted...) and then we head for coffee. 

We have a good catch up, I tell her the latest and she gives me a "tough love" talk, I know she's right, it's not like I haven't already gone through it in my own head, in every single permutation, it's just so depressing to hear.  Anyway, it was lovely to see Carol but I abandoned everything else I intended to do.

I then, in the torrential rain, went from one shop on my list to the next, not finding anything I needed and getting wetter with each trip.  By the time I got home, I was sodden, hair, clothing, shopping bags.   It's a really miserable day, weather wise.