I'm mostly writing this because I need to just get it out of my head.
On Sunday, Bill walked in the house with Saturday's mail and handed me a letter from the American Red Cross. I thought that maybe since I didn't have a donor card that they were sending me one, although there was a tiny voice in the back of my head that said, "Jennifer, you know that this is too thick to be that."
I opened up the letter and began reading. After reading the line that said the screening they did on my blood came up with inconclusive results and I might have Hepatitis C, I stuffed the letter back in the envelope and walked off.
How? Who, what, when, where, how? Why me? What the fuck?
I wanted to throw up. But I went back and tried to read the letter in full. I really couldn't do much more than skim. It basically said that the initial screening was positive, but the subsequent, more thorough screening was negative. I most likely DO NOT have Hep C, but I need to see the doctor and get tested.
Well, I was putting off scheduling an appointment for a physical. Way to push me into that one!
I'm not letting myself freak out about it. For one, my appointment isn't until June 5 and that's over a week and a half away. If I dwell and fret and worry for that long I'll honestly make myself sick. For another, the letter said it was rare with the combination of results I had to actually be infected.
But it is still back there in my head... what if?
I've never really considered having something like that before. I've never before looked at the blue lines on the inside of my arm and thought, "the blood running through there could be lethal." If I were positive, when did it happen? Do they routinely screen for that when you are pregnant? Could I have infected my children? My husband? How do you tell people if you injure yourself to leave you alone so that they don't get infected? Would it make me really sick?
Those are just a few of the things that have run through my head.
Regardless of the results of the testing my doctor will do, I can no longer donate blood. They threw the blood I did donate away. In the whole "everything happens for a reason" scheme of things, I hope this was just God's way of nudging me to get that physical done a little sooner than my procrastinating self would have done otherwise.