Don't go to the light, Carol Anne!

I kinda died on Saturday. It was nice.

I am an idiot.

I've been battling 2 infections over the last month, and decided that the PERFECT time to donate blood would be whilst fighting these infections and whilst on my lady time.

I walked all morning with Mom and Kevin, and had about an hour to get ready and get to the blood center. I shoved a Belvita biscuit into my piehole, showered and drove to the facility.  My iron level was 13.2. Good enough to donate!  My blood pressure was a little lower than normal...but still ok. 113 over 78.  My temp was 97.8, but over the past few months has been lower than normal.  Still ok.

The lady stabbed me.  It hurt. My arm started tingling halfway through the donation. I didn't say anything, as the phlebotomists were obsessed with Bobbi Christina being found unconscious in a bathtub, The donation was done. She told me to put pressure on my arm and to raise it over my head. I told her I felt wobbly.  She walked away to get me an apple juice from the fridge. Then nothing.

I dreamt that Kevin and I were walking down the trail near my house. The trees arched over the path, with sunlight shining down through the gaps in the leaves. Kevin had lots of energy, and I felt at peace. So cozy.

"Lauren!  Lauren! Wake up, Lauren!"

I opened my eyes to two women standing over me, fluorescent light hurting my eyes.  I wanted to go back to sleep. Why were my shoes gone?  Why was my chest cold? I looked down and saw ice packs on my legs and on my chest.  According to my timeline of events, I was out cold for 20 minutes.

"What did you eat today?"

"I had...I had...one of those...biscuit. Ungh. Belvita things." I slurred.

"Here's some juice."

"I'm going to throw up."

"Here's a bag."

I dry heaved for 20 minutes, until one of the ladies popped me in a wheelchair and let me let lose in the bathroom.

One of the ladies was on the phone. She was canceling the paramedics. DAMN. No hot paramedics. BOO.

They rolled me back to the bed. The lady had to fill out a report and took my blood pressure. 104/38. I was concerned about that, but she didn't acknowledge it or comment. I started feeling slightly better. They rushed me out the door.  I called Mom to let her know I might die again at some point.  She said she'd call and check on me.  I should not have been driving.

I got to Jog Rd. and had to pull over. I had to throw up but couldn't.

I got home and threw up all over myself.

I napped.

Got up and threw up again. There was nothing left.

Napped.

Ate a turkey sandwich. Felt better.

Drove to Walgreens.  Bought apple juice, soda and iced tea. Drove through Burger King.

Napped.

I was scared to really sleep, so stayed up til 1am watching TV before I decided to go to bed.  I only locked one of the deadbolts in case someone had to get in to save me.

I called my boss on Sunday and asked if I had to work the Super Bowl party since I died.  He said I had to.

I am wiped today. I started a 7 day round of pills for the latest fun time infection. They make me wonky.  I have a procedure next week that is supposed to clarify all this garbage, but I may have to reschedule as they want me to take 3 days of antibiotics before the procedure, and that will conflict with the other treatment.

Decisions are stupid.  Can I go back to walking that path with Kevin?  It was soooo nice.