The Angel Of Death Is Visiting Us For Christmas

Our family has this family friend from Mexico who I remember visiting us since I was a child. I'll call her N. N is actually the child of a good friend of my 86 year old Aunt C. I remember N sometime stayed at our house. She was anorexic back then. I remember seeing her bones stick out in the oddest places. N would take a tall glass, put a tiny amount of orange juice in, then fill the rest with water and that would be her breakfast. Everyone would try to get her to eat more and no one ever succeeded. I was sure she was going to make herself ill or worse. The last time I saw N was when I was 19 years old. My Aunt C kept in touch with her all these years through letters (snail mail...I know!) and we heard about her life through my aunt. Eventually she got married and had two sons. She's a teaches English. And I'm guessing she's not anorexic anymore. N is at least 10 years older than I am and I just turned 50 this month. A few weeks ago we got word that N's sons are sending her here for a visit this week and she'll be staying with my 86 year old Aunt C. It's nice and strange at the same time. Strange because my aunt can no longer drive, hear or see like she used to. She is also always getting sick, and falling down. Now maybe N doesn't know any of this? Okay, I can believe that my aunt never told her any of this, but N should have taken into account that Aunt C is 86 Years Old and probably can't do a lot of things she used to be able to do! Right?
Then we found out that N is arriving at L.A.X. at 11:30P.M.! Did she think my 86 Year Old aunt was going to be able to pick her up at that time? That she would be safe? Seriously, what is this woman thinking?! Obviously she is not. My aunt asked my brother if he would pick N up at that time and he agreed.
Now here is the even stranger part to this story....
My Aunt C told the family that every time N visited us, that someone in our family dies!
*silent pause*
Yes, dies!
Aunt C named a few names but the last two times N visited I knew the people who died.
One was my grandmother aka my mom's and Aunt C's mother and the other was my grandfather aka my mom's and Aunt C's father!
Holy Shit! That's what I said!
Then my mother said, "oh my gosh, N is the angel of death! And now she's coming to visit your Aunt C and your Aunt C's health is failing, What if your Aunt C dies during N's visit? Oh my gosh, she's the angel of death!!!"
Well, I've been hearing my mom call N the angel of death too many times now and needless to say it's destroyed every last nerve I've had. I've told her to call N up and tell her not to come over but she says it's not her place. I said I'll do it but she won't give me her number and I don't know N's last name or the city she lives in. Oh why didn't I pay closer attention to those letters aunt C told me about.
*deep breath*
Okay. Okay. Maybe panic mode isn't the way to go here, right? Maybe those deaths and N's visits are just coincidences? Yes, they have to be...they have to be...they have to be....
And I believe in Santa Claus too.
Merry Christmas Everyone!

I'm Alive!

They say even good news can cause stress.  When I looked at the calendar this morning and saw the date, I understood why I've had a twitchy eye.

Three years ago today on January 19, I was told by an emergency room doctor that I should say goodbye to my family because I was dying.

My blood tests confirmed that I had ITP for the second time in my life.  The only way to save my life was with a blood platelet transfusion.  Unfortunately that morning a match for my blood type could not be found in their database for the entire state of California. With ITP I was dying. Without a blood platelet transfusion I would certainly die.

A healthy platelet count is approximately 200,000.  When it gets to 50,000, it is considered life threatening. At 10,ooo, your chances of survival are extremely slim. In fact you are not considered to be able to survive.  When I arrived at the ER, my blood tests showed my count was a mere 1,000. One thousand.

After the doctor left me, I immediately called my mother and explained what my situation was and asked her to get me a priest right away so I could receive the last rites. I also asked her to to call everyone and have them call everyone they knew to pray for me because it was going to take a miracle for me to stay alive. Very soon I was on prayer lists with churches, relatives and friends of friends.

Next I asked R to trade places with my son in my room so I could speak with him.  Do you know how hard it is to tell your child, even an adult child that you've been told you are going to die. It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest!  I had a talk with Jimmy and made some requests with him on his life after I was gone. When I was done he told me to shut up!  LOL! He basically said I wasn't going to die and that he wouldn't hear me say it.  I told him that I didn't want to  and that I was praying for a miracle and I believe in miracles but just in case things needed to be said and taken care of.  What broke my heart the most was the thought of being away from my son. I still get teary eyed thinking about that time.

I received a call from my mom saying she had a hard time finding a priest. Some were on vacation, some had the day off, others were booked but she did call several churches and finally one priest was on his way. After I received this sacrament and was absolved of all my sins (oh yeah, I believe in that) I started to feel at peace. Afterwards the doctor came in and said they found a platelet match for my blood type! But it was in San Diego. A minimum two hour drive without traffic to where I was located.  And this was a Friday morning at 8AM. The traffic would be horrendous! Still he requested they drive it up in an ambulance to our hospital. Now all we had to to was pray that I'd still be alive when the San Diego platelets arrived.  Yup, that's all!

As I sat in an ER bed waiting in a hospital gown, I noticed all the spots on my arms and legs. Spots are the only symptom you have when you get ITP.  It doesn't hurt at all. There is no sick feeling, no fever, only tiny little red spots which are indication that you are bleeding under your skin. ITP is when your blood platelets count is so low that your blood can no longer clot. You can bleed to death either by a cut or internally. So when you see these spots all over, you are in fact bleeding internally.

When my mother arrives at the hospital, she and my son tell me they saw an ambulance in parking lot and wonder if it is my platelets. A short time after the ER doctor comes in and confirms it. They made the drive in 2 hours on a Friday morning in traffic! That in itself was a miracle.  The hospital checks me into a regular room and hooks up me up to the platelets.  It looks like a large plastic bag of apple sauce going into me. I was also given Prednisone and antibiotics. During my hospital stay, I had to have blood test every two hours to keep an eye on my platelet count.  Pretty soon the blood techs (i forget their true name) or as I called them, the vampires, nicknamed me spiderwoman because the only place they could get blood out of me was on the inside of one of my wrists.

My body started doing what it was supposed to do and my platelets multiplied on their own.  After a sufficient amount of time I was released to finish recovering at home.  At my next hematologist appointment he told me hardly anyone survives ITP one time and No One survives it twice like I did! He said I was a miracle. He still thinks he should check my count every six months and I'm grateful for his precaution. I happen to enjoy my life but I didn't come out of this trauma unscathed.  I ended up with a severe panic disorder, some OCD, and post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I can no longer drive freeways and just about a year ago started driving again on streets.  Gone are the day where I didn't worry about the little things or things I couldn't change.  I am more neurotic than I've ever been but....I'm alive.  *eye twitch*

:-)