Valentines Day Surprises: Hearts (Blood) & Flowers

I was completely surprised when flowers were delivered to me at my office on Thursday.  My perfect husband (Ph) never sends me flowers, and had already given me a card and fancy chocolates early that morning.  (Ph keeps bringing me sweets and desserts . . .  is he trying to fatten me up? make me sweeter?) 

My first thought: Were the flowers from a secret admirer? How exciting would that be?? Or were they cancer flowers? You know, some charity organization, like Flowers for Middle-Aged Breast Cancer Patients (FFMABCP?) And what does one do with mystery flowers? Leave them at the office to wither while I'm out for 5 days, or take them home and have to explain them?  Inside the box, there were tulips, my favorite flower, so the sender obviously knew me.  I didn't see a card initially, and was contemplatiing the statistical probability of various possible senders, when I found the card . .  the tulips were from my lovely daughter!!  Flowers from my little girl--what could be more heartwarming?  I texted a photo of the flowers to her and said they are gorgeous, and so is she.  (She coincidentally received the same flowers from her guy). Years ago, during law school I think, I spent several days in NYC, and stayed in Gramercy Park with my dear Aunt S, an artist/art teacher, where she had lived since, at least 1950, in a rent control apartment that was "huge," by NY standards.  I brought her flowers and she commented, with her artistic flair "You don't need to bring me flowers. You are a flower!"  Lovely daughgter: You don't need to send me flowers. You are a flower!  But I am touched and delighted that you did!

Now the heart(s)--I only had a few hours in my office on Thursday, following out of town meetings and travel, was stressed and rushed to Dr. S's office just barely in time for them to draw my blood and get a lab report.  The surprising news was that my blood counts had dropped even lower since last week, so despite getting "the shot" last week, and another one on Thursday, I was told I need a blood transfusion. WHAT??  Another one of those "am I suddenly on Mars? moments."  I attempted to tell the nurse that I feel fine, I mean I'm not as tired as I should be with counts that low, I mean I'm exhausted right now, but its because I just had 2 days of travel, board meetings, several nights with only 4 hours of sleep, (including staying up til 4 am to prepare for a meeting with health officials of a Latin American country . .  and unbeknownst to me, the meeting was held in Spanish, and my limited communication skills: Buenas Dias, uno mas vino tinto and donde as el bano would not get me very far in this meeting, and was very stressful . . . . I said  this far less eloquently than even this lame attempt at writing it, and tried to apologize to Chemo room nurse K; . . .  she said--"You're not making sense because you're not getting enough oxygen to your brain.  Or to your heart for that matter, and there are risks of a heart atack.  Most people with levels this low would not have enough energy to be walking around.  Dr. S says you must get this transfusion ASAP."

Yes, m'am.  (And note to self: what if the Latin American regulations are published and all they address is red wine and finding a bathroom??)

So I was immediately scheduled for "type and cross" on Friday, which to me sounds like a London tube station--and a 5-hour blood transfusion on Saturday,  at Suburban Hospital.  There goes the weekend.

So, I'm bummed about the blood counts and transfusion, but the flowers make me so happy I could cry.

Happy Belated V-Day everyone!