Friday, October 4, 2013


This post was something I wrote a while ago, but I've been so busy lately that I haven't had time to sit down and write something new this week!

The blood gushes down my ankle and I can't get it to stop and my thoughts are the color of panic and humiliation and oh God make it stop...please, please, please make it stop.

"I'm sorry," I murmur to my friend who is sitting across from me with concern painted all over her face. And it sucks because today we were just supposed to have sundaes and talk about life and relax before the start of another school week.

"Don't apologize," she says as she passes me another napkin to blot the cut on my leg. "Are you sure you're okay?"

And then I have to explain about the sort-of-not-really hemophilia, the mild factor deficiency in my blood that is so, so easy to forget about, until....until a simple cut that I received hours and hours before suddenly starts bleeding again, all over the floor of the dining hall and I'm trying to hold a normal conversation but for the love of God I just can't because I'm trying to stop the blood from ruining my sock, my shoe, the dining hall floor.

I'm bent to one side as I press the napkin against my leg and my ice cream is a melted mess just like this mess of a day and I'm not even hungry anymore because in that moment all I want is a normal life, a life where I can run with my friends without battling stiffness and balance issues, a life where I can eat an ice cream sundae without worrying about a clot breaking and bleeding everywhere. 

"I think I'm fine now," I say after holding the napkin to my leg for what seems like an eternity. I stand up and then, after about twenty steps, I realize that it's started again, a steady stream of blood dripping down my leg.

"Maybe we should get help," my friend suggests nervously, as I sigh and lean down to press another napkin to my leg. "Do you want me to get help?"

No no no no no. The last thing I need is an audience. I shake my head and try to laugh it off, but I can't stop yearning for normalcy.

As I sit on a bench with the napkin pressed against my leg, I murmur in a moment of weakness, "I hate this. I hate that my life has to be like this."

I guess we all have those moments where we're on the verge of tears, trying desperately to staunch the bleeding that just won't stop and wishing that somehow things could be easier. In my case, this moment was quite literal, but if there's one thing I am consistently learning through this blog, it is that I am not alone.

We all bleed. 


  1. Yes, we all do have those moments when we're on the verge of tears and figuratively, or literally, bleeding but not all of us handles it quite so beautifully. You're a good person, K.

  2. Awesome post!

    Would you be interested in guest blogging on the Pediatric Home Service blog? Here's a link to the blog:

    We'd love to have you! My email is

    Thank you!

  3. "We all bleed" - what a great metaphor. I'm sorry you have to deal with it both figuratively and literally though. xo

  4. Ooh, this was an interesting one! I don't think this is something we have discussed before. I know you mentioned something about bleeding a lot in surgery but not apart from that. I suppose there is not much to do for that but apply pressure...


Please feel free to leave a comment. I would love to hear from you. Thanks! :-)