It’s been a bloody week. I don’t mean it’s been a shitty week. I’m not speaking figuratively. It’s literally been a bloody week.

My father needed a blood transfusion. This isn’t a new thing. Due to an inoperable internal bleed combined with being on a blood thinner to prevent a stroke and a heart attack, we’ve been doing this for some time. For the past few months, his numbers have been good enough that he’s only needed iron infusions, but the doctor recently increased the dose of his blood thinner (coumadin for you medical professionals out there) because his numbers weren’t therapeutic. This isn’t a bad thing, but it did result in him needing a blood transfusion again.

The transfusion isn’t a big deal; it’s a pretty long day at the hospital for both of us, but I manage that ok. Though, it is pretty rough on him. This week, however, after eating lunch in the cafeteria, I received a phone call from the nurse watching him. There had been an incident. The connection was bad for some reason, so I didn’t get the whole story. I heard “blood” and “he’s ok,” so I wasn’t terribly concerned.

Apparently, about halfway into his transfusion, he needed to use the restroom. Normally a nurse disconnects him and escorts him there and back. But that day, he just disconnected himself and left the blood bag to drip onto the floor. He doesn’t move quickly these days, and it dripped for some time before anyone noticed. What a mess. I felt bad for the nurses. They’re always amazing and make a less than amazing day into a tolerable, almost enjoyable, one.

Unfortunately, half a bag of blood wasn’t enough, so they had to start a fresh one. I decided to sit in the room with him rather than leave to help avoid another incident. His dementia is bad enough now that this will be my regular routine. I always have a book and my computer with me anyway. I’ll make the most of it.

Then came this morning. I was running out of time to eat before a meeting, so I decided to toast a bagel. Easy, peasy, right? Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever cut yourself with a bread knife, but it sucks. Despite the bagels being mostly presliced, I always finish the cut with a bread knife. I’ve done this hundreds, maybe thousands of times, in my life, but this morning, I got careless and took a nice slice through my left index finger. It didn’t hurt, but wow, did that thing start leaking something fierce. I could tell it was deep, but decided pressure, anti-bacterial ointment, and a band-aid would be good enough. It looked ok after my meeting until I banged it on the door on my way into the post office. It hurt, but I didn’t notice the blood until I noticed red smears on the mail. I repressured, recleaned, and rebandaged it when I got home.

So, yeah, that was my bloody week. Other than the long day at the hospital and being unable to do some of the things I’d hoped to get done this afternoon, it was a pretty good week. Considering what other things people are going through in the world right now, it was paradise.