The Lazy Vampire

Willie receiving a red blood cell infusion.

Will's white count held strong through the night, but his red cells didn't do the same.  There is a threshold at which they will transfuse red blood cells and that is when the count drops below 7.  Yesterday he was dancing on the edge of the threshold with a count of 7.1.  Today his count was 6.7.  The team informed us that he would be receiving two units of red blood cells when they did their morning rounds.  We picked up two new people today who I could have sworn were only here to see the weight lifter that everyone has been talking about. 
Each morning exams starts off the same.  Dr. Mitra enters the room, nods his hellos then turns to Willie and says
"Is there something you want to tell us?"
He says it in an unassuming tone, but the first time I heard it I thought he was there to accuse us of doing something awful.  Like he had done some research in the night and discovered some deep dark secrets about us that even we weren't aware of.  I felt the need to confess everything to him, including the fact that I had been ordering salads on Will's meal trays and pretending they were for him!  There was a long silence that followed his first questioning as I contemplated whether there was any way that he actually knew about my salad lies.  Finally, Willie shook his head and said
"No, nothing's really happened."
This evoked a broad smile from the doctor and he patted Willie on the shoulder and said that was great!
We are now accustomed to his style of questioning and Willie has yet to provide any confession to his request for info.  It's not that he's holding out, there is simply nothing to report.  I imagine he gets all sorts of crazy reports from other patients he asks this question to, perhaps hearing things about nausea, fevers, dizziness etc., but not from Willie!
Today when he asked, it was more of a formality rather than an actual request for an answer.  Willie supplied his usual answer in telling him things were fine.  Willie was sitting at the side of the bed and he began his usual morning check starting with a look at his teeth, checking his heart and lungs and ending by tapping all over his body and asking if he feels any pain. 
The drab attending physician was looking a bit more chipper today and was extra interested in Will's physical exam.  The previous two days he's been in here, Will has been laying in bed, so today, with him sitting up he got his first glimpse of his stature.  He stood behind Will as Dr. Mitra listened to his heart from the front.  I watched his eyes move around the perimeter of Will's impressive biceps, then as the Dr. moved the stethoscope to his back to listen, he reached out and lifted up Will's shirt to assist.  His eyes widened ever so slightly then he turned to one of the doctors and mouthed
"He's STRONG!"
I wanted to laugh out loud at the impressed look that wouldn't leave his face.
Dr. Mitra finished his exam then reminded us that we are still waiting for his counts to bottom out before they eventually begin to climb. 
"Let's be real," I said, after he finished his daily reminder "Willie is doing Awesome, isn't he?"
There was laughter from the doctors then they all nodded and began talking at once about how he is the easiest case they've ever had and the strongest they've seen yet.  The only reaction I was interested in was that of our attending physician who I just accused yesterday of having no emotion.  I caught his eye after I said that and he nodded in affirmation.  He has ears that stick out from his head that have an endearing mouse quality to them and they shook their agreements along with him.  He then winked at me and mouthed
"AWESOME!"
It was the greatest exchange of all time.  He has now won a place in my heart.  And, I feel good having fulfilled my goal to evoke any kind of emotion from him.  The man is impressed by muscles.  Who can blame him?
The transfusion was supposed to start in the morning, but the blood bank was running behind.  Will and I had planned a date to attend the free concerts that are offered every Wednesday and Friday at 12:30 PM so they agreed to hold off on the blood until after our hospital music date.  And what a great date it was.
Today the music was from a group called Bella Trio which consisted of a Violin, Cello and Piano.  The sound was simply amazing.  I grew up in a household where my Mom and Sister both play the violin so I have come to appreciate what good string instruments sound like.  These string players are obviously dedicated to their craft and they drew their bows back and forth across the strings as smoothly as though they were moving through water.  It was a pleasure just to watch them perform!  At one point, the pianist read a french poem about heaven.  The poem spoke of the divinity within all of us and how at some point in everyone's life, that divinity is called home to join the highest source of light.  She got choked up as she read it and I couldn't help but wonder who she has lost to that divine light.  The music moved me to tears.  It was a slowly, dreary song in the beginning that soon became lighter and seemed so ascend into the sky as it went.  I looked around the room at all the other patients in filter masks like Willie's who were attached to IV poles and heart monitors.  I wondered how many of them will be called home to that divine light soon. 


We even got a free CD at the concert!

I don't know how anyone can endure a trial like this without faith.  Our faith has sustained us through this journey and we know with full confidence that we are being take care of by a source far powerful than any of us.  That faith gives us hope which is the most powerful tool we have right now!
After our concert date we came back to our room for a lovely lunch then Willie got hooked up for his first infusion.  It takes about 2 hours to infuse each pint of blood so we settled in for the afternoon.  Will kicked back in bed and let the red blood cells do their thing.  The nurse and I joked about how that was a vampire's dream and then came up with the term "lazy vampire" to describe him. 
The first infusion went off without a hitch.  The second was not so easy.  The machine backed up about halfway through and started beeping its angry warning bell.  The nurse came to check it and tried everything to get it running again.  Nothing was working so she tried to clear the picc line when she discovered it was clotted.  This is an easy fix in which some blood thinning medication is inserted in the line then left for 30 minutes to 2 hours before it is pulled out along with the clots. She did this, and about 45 minutes later his line was clot free and the infusion continued.  He finished his last bag just in time for the Giants game!  Good thing we had our date earlier, because now it's just Willie and his Giants for the rest of the night!