Deja Vue Donation

Last May, 2017, I donated Bone Marrow (a process called Peripheral Blood Stem Cell Donation).
It was, and remains, one of my proudest moments; that I was lucky enough to be a match for someone anonymously and save their life. I had said since I registered with Be The Match, since I wasn’t a bone marrow match for my Dad, and couldn’t save him, I wanted to help save someone else.

Fast forward almost a year later.
My Bone Marrow Donationversary will be May the 15th.

For a while, I wanted to donate blood.
I had donated once before, randomly;
There happened to be a blood drive at my Gym, a few years ago.

I signed up with United Blood Services there on the spot.
A few questions later, and I was on my way.
One of the bonuses of donating was for the first time, finding out my Blood Type.
For whatever reason, I had always believed I was Type B.

My Father could eat a 72oz steak and still have low cholesterol. Bitch.
I look at a McDonalds hamburger, and instantly my cholesterol skyrockets.
My Mother has always had high cholesterol, too.
She also has a thing for Firefighters,
so our running joke has been I get my cholesterol from my “Fireman Father”

Because I remember everything and never let it go, with my Dad in the car, if a fire truck passed us, I would wave and say “Hi, Dad!” to my Fireman Father.

At any rate, I donated that one time, found out I was A+, and then promptly flashed back to Mrs. Tuliszewski’s 10th Grade Biology Class, when I remembered a chart showing the possible blood type combinations since I knew what Blood Type my parents were (I was sneaky like that!). So I googled the chart, and WHEW! My Parents were actually my parents! It was logistically possible for my Dad to be my Dad. I sighed out of relief.

I called UBS and signed up to donate a couple of months ago, but I ended up cancelling the appointment when I couldn’t kick the cold/strep throat I had been battling.

After a friend posted he had donated a few days before, I decided to sign up again and called last Saturday. They had an opening on Sat, but I chose an appointment after work on Tuesday, yesterday.
I’m a firm believer in things happen the way they are meant to, and this was no different.

Pulling into the parking lot, a single purple flower flew across my windshield. This has historically been my Grandmother or my Dad telltale sign of saying hello, and so I smiled.

After I signed in and answered a bunch of questions, they took a blood test to ensure I was healthy enough to donate. My Iron needed to be at 13 or Higher. The finger they tested on my right hand registered a 12.8. UGH! They asked if I would like to test my other hand, which I did, and my left hand knocked it out of the park. WHAT?! That’s my non-dominant hand.

When they saw my Blood Type was A+, the staff said they were in need of platelets and would I mind donating those instead? WOULD I MIND? Of course not! I was excited. My Dad’s platelet levels constantly suffered as he dealt with the Myelodysplastic Syndrome, and in some way, this was like the Bone Marrow Donation, from my perspective. I could help my Dad, by helping someone else, who needed platelets. I could help someone who needed it, like the person close to me currently struggling with their platelets, or someone’s mother, someone’s father. Someone who loves, Someone who IS loved, who could benefit.

The procedure itself was quite similar to the Bone Marrow Donation.
They asked which arm, and it didn’t matter to me.
Interestingly, they too, chose my left arm.
My Dad was a lefty which is why I find the left arm references that have been occurring, mysterious...and interesting

The Donation took about 1.5 hours. Dracula sucked the blood out, and then they kept the platelets and then returned the rest of the blood back to my arm via a different tube.

When the procedure was finished and they removed the tube, I felt nauseous, but I blew the feeling off. I thought it was temporary.  When I first stood up, I felt the room start spinning, I got dizzy, and as I started to sit back down in the chair, i fell back into the chair. Guess I wasn’t as ready to stand up as I thought! An orange soda and bag of pretzels later, and I felt good enough to stand up again.

I imagine that feeling was what my Dad experienced when his blood sugar dropped,
I had never experienced it before.
Lesson Learned: Have a HUGE Lunch before donating next time.

It was my honor to do this, and I would do it again.
You can donate platelets again after 7 days, but I decided to re-donate in a month.
I’m already looking forward to my next already scheduled appointment!

To paraphrase Matt Damon in “Good Will Hunting,”
Let the saving begin!

Expanded Thankful Post

I started doing a Thankfulness challenge on Jan 1 to try and get me out of the funk I was in. This is an expanded version for today, Feb 11.

I am Thankful my Dad is only about 40 minutes drive away when I want or need to visit with him. 

I am also Thankful for inheriting my Dad’s sense of humor, and unfortunately, or fortunately, his sense of direction and his ability to get lost and turned around.

Driving up to the cemetery in North Phoenix, I decided not to use the GPS as we’ve gone enough, I thought I would remember where to turn and Plus, there are directional signs for the VA cemetery on the route.

My Dad, too, was famous (infamous) for not asking directions and being the typical Alpha Male who knew exactly how to go, even if he had never been there. He famously missed a turn that we never let him forget. His retort that became a legend and a running joke was “So I missed the fucking turn; it’s not the end of the fucking world.” And yes, he was very frustrated when he said it. He never cursed except for a very rare “oh shit” when it managed to slip out.

So, I became even moreso my Father’s son when I decided I knew better than the GPS. I missed the exit off the highway. OOPS!

It gets better. So then I put the cemetery into Google Maps, but on the road where you enter the cemetery grounds, I turned too soon onto a wrong alleyway. Foiled again!

When Google Maps screeched “you have arrived at your destination” We were actually outside another cemetery right next to the VA. Still wrong!

We just had to laugh.

Like Father, Like Son.

I was upset this morning and on the drive up. As we pulled into the cemetery, “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan started playing on the radio. Had I not missed the exit and made the wrong turns, we would not have heard that song. Another sign? 

Even though I was upset, after we were at Dad’s gravesite, I felt an unexplained peace and serenity that calmed me down some and stopped me from a full blown ugly cry. 

I thanked him for the signs he has provided us thus far, and so I am extremely thankful for the ones he decided to throw our way on the drive back home. 

Black Birds have been one of his telltale signs. When I stopped at QT for lunch, a black bird was next to the car. It remained still as I backed up, stared right at me and then flew away. 

Additionally, We passed a car with a NY Giants sticker, and then passed a 2nd NY Giants fan in their car as we entered Chandler on the 101.

Our original plan was to see a movie, but we missed the movie time, and decided to do the food shopping instead. Sometimes, things just occur the way they are meant to play out, so that you are exactly where the universe needs or wants you to be, to either help someone or be helped yourself.

My opinion, anyway. I had a lovely conversation with the cashier at Winco, and at Fry’s, I spotted the Oreo candy bars Dad liked that I also love (think chopped up Oreos covered in milk chocolate), marked down, so I replenished my supply. We went to a different grocery store than we normally do.

It was a pleasant surprise to find them in the checkout line we chose (or that was chosen for us!)

Thanks for everything, Dad.

I love you.