Saturday, January 28, 2012


She was brought in half dead.

Indeed, with every minute spent with her, I expected her to give that final gasp and shudder I have come to easily recognise; the gasp of a being who has finally let go of its human form.

She was pale as a sheet, weak, with beads of sweat upon her forehead. You didn't need a magician to tell you she had practically no blood in her.

The normal blood level for a woman should be between 34 - 47%;

hers was 9%

What happens with critically low blood levels?

Blood moves from less important organs like the skin to more vital organs like the brain with gradual system shutdown and eventual death.

Peculiar to this case was the fact that the blood level was initially 10% and became 9% after she had been transfused three times!

Her case was like trying to fill a bucket with thousands of holes at the bottom; no matter how much water you put in, it just won't get full.


What was eating up all the blood? Where was all the blood being transfused going? Why was her blood level going down instead of up?

Those were the questions that needed to be answered. But those questions could not be answered on a dead body; so she needed another transfusion first.

I feared for her life, the clock was ticking. Her veins had started to collapse, they were barely visible; I could only do so much. Would she survive before the blood came? I doubted it.

Fast forward 24 hours, another shift. I checked the ward for her but I couldn't find her, had the worst happened? I braced myself and asked the nurse if she knew what happened to the woman from yesterday. 'Check that room', she replied.

I went in cautiously, not knowing what to expect, but there she was looking bright and able to respond to my greeting. A transformation from the previous day, I was elated.

It was obvious she didn't recognise me; my job was done anyway so I turned to leave as quietly as I came in.

image courtesy
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