The Difference Between 19.84% and 20% Blood Loss!

What is the difference and why should you care?

I will tell you. The difference is whether you get a transfusion or you are left to grow those little red blood cells yourself. Which is like watching water boil, when you forget to turn on the burner. 

You should care because if you ever find yourself in this predicament (having lost 19.86% of your blood instead of the required 20%) I strongly urge you to punch yourself in the nose. The pain will be worth the long time period of feeling brain dead and being so tired you have to pinch yourself just to know you’re still among the living.

The back story is insane but long story short, I’d been bleeding internally for two months and instead of looking in the mirror and seeing my pale skin as an indication of my health (or linking it to my nearly passing out everywhere I went) I added more foundation till I looked like Tan-Mom and told myself to try harder. Try harder to get the house clean, keep the kids entertained and write on little writer. Never mind my vision going or the numbing of my limbs. I was a trooper and sure it was my hard life making me weary nothing more. I did not know I was half dead. Or would that be 19.86% dead? Not sure but I was a walking, dysfunctional, hot mess! 

In my defense, I didn’t have enough cogs turning in my oxygen deprived brain to figure all this out. Nor did I have money for the insurance co-pay. I was saving for my daughter’s new glasses. She had been without them all summer. It was right before school and I was determined to get them for her. Cha-ching! I almost became a martyr of my own life. 

I tried to keep up my social networking but lost my drive. I stopped reading altogether! My children would point out how tired I look all the time and I would look in the mirror and think, more foundation.

My parents came to see me and in true grandparent form they paid for my daughter’s back-to-school needs. Unbeknownst to them, they saved my life. I had an appointment with a Doctor in less than 24 hours (after speaking with an advise nurse) easily paying the co-pay with my unspoken for cash. The doctor fixed me up with an “easy” outpatient procedure and in two days I was on the mend. “On the mend” being the slowest process in the known world.  

 I watched a million documentaries and stared holes in my walls. I chose one piece of writing and worked through blurry eyes to accomplish my goals.  They diagnosed me with Vertigo from the oxygen deprivation, other than that and being tongue tied all the time I am almost back to my old self. 

Thank you all for your patients and support!

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~DyslexicWhisper Kellee Bishop Farr

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I See In 3D

My grandmother-in-law was in the hospital recently. She is 96 and had an infection in one of her legs. What was supposed to be a routine check on her leg turned into a four day nightmare. They admitted her and began intense antibiotics. They gave her sleep aids and pain killers but explained little. She began to feel out of control and fearful. What she thought she was seeing turned out to be (from what I gather) side effects of the medicine. And what I insist as malnourishment from fear of eating and fatigue from adrenaline fueled by fear. She could not sleep. She would not eat.

When she asked that I come stay with her I went with the intention of easing her stay any way I could. I remember a time in life where I wished someone would simply watch over me so I could sleep. She was gifting me with her trust and I was determined not to fail her.

During my time with her the specialist came in pulling at her blanket wanting to examine her. “Remember this woman is 96,” I demanded. She comes from a time where women wore pantyhose at ALL times or were considered indecent. She came from 1916. My history friends will understand that America in this time period was not even the same planet as it is now. Men do NOT bring in groups of training doctors to view 96 year old women in this manner without taking a piece of the woman’s integrity when they leave.

I am not a doctor. I do not even claim that what they were doing was wrong. Maybe they see things that I do not. I only asked that they consider the person as they proceed. What I wanted to give her was peace of mind. I brought my computer and iPod. I showed her that the medical staff and family member (from the lady sharing her room) were not out to get her with their strange handheld electronic devises. They were not in “cahoots”, like she claimed, but were probably on Facebook. Then I opened up my Facebook on my iPod and showed her pictures of her grand-kids and her children and the lives she had no idea were so accessible. In the end she said she would rather be gardening, despite the many hours she could see being consumed looking at everyone’s “grass is greener” photos.

The night was long and I was tired but when the situation would get the better of her I switched from my iPod to my laptop to give her old eyes a better view. The screen was now large enough to engage her in these precious family photos that were taken with the current generation’s iOS devices. Bless her heart, we giggled and awed at some and then looked surprised at the more risqué photos. I got to see the world from 1916. It was beautiful. It deserved respect. She was NOT losing her grip on reality she was simply trying to cope in a world that was developing faster than she could access.

I stayed up all night and only took my eyes off her once (Guests were not allowed to use the bathroom in the room) but I explained this to her and everything else that she heard and saw that she did not understand. From the rolling cart of the late night custodian to vibration of the staffs feet when they had to rush off for a patients emergency she was scared and I knew the mind can be a powerful enemy. She was not convinced by all of my explanations but she grew to trust me that night because I never lied to her or talked down to her. There was never a sensation that was too insignificant for me to explain. And I offered the explanations without her asking.

She was convinced they were holding her against her will. I stayed with her until she was released and when we got outside I asked her if she could smell anything. She looked at me funny and said no. I told her to take a big whiff, because that was the smell of sweet freedom. She laughed and then looked at me seriously. Then she told me something that I hadn’t realized I needed so desperately. She said, “You know kid, I love you.”

This to me is my gift of dyslexia. To see things in 3D. To understand from all directions. I made a friend that day. A friendship that levels me at how genuine it is.

I try to look at everyone with this 3D approach. Every child discovered not labeled. Every elderly person deserves explanation not condemnation and every disability deserves redefining.

Almost 100 years together. Perfection!

Whisper This,

Dyslexicwhisper

PTSD

Twenty billion thoughts a day

Being chased by one moment that wont go away

My throat closes and my mind starts to race

That bit of evil can always keep pace

I take to my feet out running my fear

Cause it hasn’t proved helpful to reach for a beer

Pill or powder liquid or smoke

The demon is coming my pain will evoke

I look frozen but I am actually raging inside

The madness behind my eyes it does hide

Jealous and envy for your normal life

My soul cries out drowning with rife

I choose every next moment exhausted and dull

Nothing ever happens yet my mind is so full

My neurons are jumping one over the next

Enveloping are memories out of context

A trigger has now become my biggest fear

Like demons inside my memories sear

I jump at sound and cringe when anyone walks by

The devil surrounds me I wish I could fly

One moment in time has shattered my soul

One more moment in time is my only goal