Blood

I've spent countless hours receiving blood transfusions alone. Sitting in hospital chairs while someone else's donated blood helps keep me alive. There is extraordinary kindness in that gift, and in the people who provide this care. But there is also a loneliness in this experience that can't be explained. For eight years, I fought to have my suffering taken seriously. Now I sit in rooms where keeping me alive has become part of the routine. I am grateful for the blood. I am grateful for the science. But I wonder how many people walk these hallways carrying fear, grief, and years of being dismissed. The hospital has a sign telling me exactly where to go to receive blood. I wish it had been just as easy to find a doctor willing to listen.