Instead of listening to my body, I was angry with myself. I was finally given this opportunity and I nearly blew it. And now I was forced to get blood drawn the next day to check for anemia.
We were sitting at the dinner table when the phone rang.
On August 3, 2011, my future hematologist demanded I go to the hospital right away even though my parents, sisters, and I didn't understand why. We pushed it off until the morning. Nine the next morning, I was sitting in the waiting room of the emergency room, utterly confused. When I was finally called back, I was given an IV and several tubes of blood were taken. Just as I was in tears, my hematologist walked into my room. I did not realize until recently how difficult it must have been for my hematologist to tell a proud mother that her daughter could bleed to death.
My count was 30,000 at the time but that meant nothing to me. I was informed that I could not play softball anymore which took up my entire life. Every day was dedicated to multiple practices and every weekend was dedicated to tournaments.
Instead of leading the life of an average teen, I have been forced to live a life full of blood draws, infusions, medications, steroids, disappointment, and hope.
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