Members Day is always a Bac’s day. I look forward to it, longing to see the girls at our favourite joint – Club Galileo’s in Westlands.
I love the rituals – the 3Ds (drinking, dining and dancing). That’s something I gonna miss for aeons before the monstrous worms crawling inside me were gotten rid of.
So, this Friday I am not looking forward to anything except my daily dose of plasma.
Today at noon, I was sitting up in bed when Gwen walked in through the door of my hospital room. I stretched out my arms and she hugged me until I told her to take it easy on me. She pulled back, kissed me on both cheeks and sat down beside me.
“Update me,” she said. “How are you doing?”
“The doc says am gonna be fine. Next week he’d check whether the daily transfusions can be cut to four times a week. After that, I would be good to go. I should be able to go back to work, but for short hours.”
“I don’t know what to say, but that’s what I have been saying, and doing. Thanking God, that is,” I said. “It feels like forever in this sick Karen King bed.”
Gwen produced a box of chocolate, tore it open and gave it to me. I took the first bar my hand fell on and pushed it back to her. She too took a bar.
She poured Delmonte passion juice for both of us, put a straw in my glass and handed it to me.
A moment later, Carolynah sauntered in bearing a tray with my medication and lunch.
“Here you go, Shiri. Your medication.”
I slugged down the pills and pushed the tray away once the nurse was gone. “No appetite,” I said.
We talked some, gossiped and I got news of the outside world from the source. At around half past one, Gwen left.
As though it was a tide, reminiscences roiled in my mind, bringing back memories of home.
It was in March when I was at home. Everyone was fine – mom, sis’ and Meira – except for dad who was recovering from an operation.
What had started as an on-off-on prolonged case of incessant fever, headaches and kidney failure – what had led to dad’s operation – had later being confirmed as thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura (TTP), a rare blood disorder of blood coagulation that affects the kidneys, heart and brain as mom told me later. Wasn’t I happy that dad was okay then?
Since that day I had forgotten all about it, until when the doctor told me my disease was hereditary. All I needed to do was to join the dots, what I exactly did, and I solved the damn simple puzzle. Shit happens, and I was fucked.
My never ending attacks of malaise, fever and headaches that had been the bane of my happiness were confirmed to be a sign of an underlying problem. My kidney was showing some signs of failure, but the inhibitors were not being detected, as in cases of hereditary deficiency of ADAMTS13 are not detected clinically easily.
Thus once the Upshaw Schulman Syndrome was detected I had to be confined in this Karen King bed. God, amn’t I bored to hell!
Copyright ©Elove, 2012.