One minute, I’m enjoying a leisurely latte with The First Husband, before heading out to meet Wisewebwoman for lunch. The next, I’m doing a face plank in the bathroom washbasin, spewing blood from my nose all over the porcelain and onto the cabinet.
As a child, I was prone to frequent, sudden nose bleeds. I’ve read that epileptics know when a seizure is about to happen, because they get a sudden strong feeling of deja vu. I’m not sure how or why, but I always knew when a nose bleed was about to happen. I would creep into the dining room and hide under the table, where I would sit and watch the drops of blood fall into my lap. The dining room was reserved for special occasions, with its ponderous mahogany furniture protected by dust sheets, under which I could bleed in peace.
The She Devil loved it when my nose bled in public. She knew that, if she danced around and made a fuss, the blood would flow faster and stronger, as fear made my blood pressure rise. As a teenager, she would bring her friends into the house and let them watch while she made my nose bleed. All she had to do was advance on me, pretending she would tear my blouse open, while chanting “Any hair on your chest yet, Chasaveen?” and, sure as eggs is eggs, my nose would begin to spurt. Her cronies thought it screamingly funny and came back again and again for a replay.
As the years went by and especially after The She Devil left home, the frequency of my nosebleeds decreased, and they had ceased entirely by the time I reached my mid-teens. This episode came out of the blue, with no warning whatsoever. And, unlike my childhood seizures, the blood was not a slow, crimson ooze. This was a fountain of bright scarlet, worthy of a candidate for the tender ministrations of Gregory House MD.
The First Husband was a Trojan. Despite his morbid fear of blood – he can’t even watch a gory scene on television, though he knows it’s just ketchup! – he brought ice and wet cloths and even cleaned up all the blood. He also tried to persuade me I should go to Emergency, but I couldn’t see the point. Like Jan, I don’t have a lot of confidence in doctors.
The really big issue, which no doctor could address, is that I missed my chance to meet Wisewebwoman. And I’m really pissed about that. We talked on the phone (me mumbling around a washcloth stuffed with ice) and agreed we will meet when she comes back to Ontario in April. I can’t wait.
Oh, my – that would have scared me to death, but no – I wouldn’t have gone to the ER unless it didn’t stop in a reasonable amount of time (like, maybe, 2 days). Oh, I talk a good game, but I guess the best I can say is that I wouldn’t have gone to the ER willingly – Beloved may have very well dragged me there by the hair.
I hope you’re all right and that it was just one of those weird things. Do you have a humidifier in your house? Before we got ours, my nose would sometimes bleed a little just from blowing my nose because the air is just so dry in the winter.
The way the blood was flowing, Jan, I would have been empty in 2 days! But it was only a couple of hours, and then two more slightly shorter episodes over the next 24 hours, so I gave the ER a miss. I know it wasn’t lack of humidity, because we have a very efficient humidifier on the furnace and, if it goes off by the tiniest amount, my hair starts flying towards the ceiling. No hair flying, so didn’t even have to check the humidity level.
I’d been a bit cranky for a couple of days beforehand, so maybe I just needed to be bled a bit, to reduce my choleric humour!
I’m so glad you’re up and bloggin’, my dear, these things happen, we will reschedule for April.
I’m going to write about the kiss of death thing I bring to my blogmeets……
Take care…
XO
WWW
Hmm. Looks like I was lucky to get off with just a nosebleed … Looking forward to April. xo
Oh bad luck and bloody hell!
I hope the nose bleeds stay away for another 20 years or so and you can see Wisewebwoman soon.
Twenty years should just about do it, Duch. And I’m hoping to meet up with Wisewebwoman in April. With my fingers crossed and a clove of garlic on my person, of course.
You have my fullest sympathy as a fellow sufferer, though I do hope it was not the terror of meeting WWW that set you off!
Thanks, Laura. And I assure you I was not at all trepidatious about meeting WWW. Honest.
Daughter #2 suffers from nose bleeds too. D1, to my knowledge, has never been responsible but one never knows. D2 used to wake in the middle of the night covered in blood. Once I got her cleaned up and tended to, I would go to change her sheets. Egads, it looked like someone was murdered there.
Oh, I think you’d know, my dear! I had to empty the bin in the bathroom before the cleaning lady came, because it looked as though someone had cleaned up after a massacre in there.
Bloody hell indeed. I’ve never had a single nose bleed but I’ve seen enough to know I sure don’t want one either. Take care of yourself and I hope it’s not an event that is repeated anytime soon.
Thanks, Janie. What your family is going through right now puts my little episode into perspective. Take care. xo
Tessa,
What a great blog!
So glad you dropped by Quick Brown Fox. I might neve have discovered you otherwise.
Care to exchange links?
Thank you, Brian. I’m glad you like my blog and happy to add you to the blogroll.
I am with you totally on trying to avoid the ER whenever possible. Long hours of waiting and then, huh, whatever it was went away, stopped being a problem and then you have that huge, freaking co-pay to deal with.
Props to hubby for helping to clean up the disaster and taking care of you. Your hubby sounds like a keeper (like mine *kiss kiss*).
No co-pay here in Canada, I’m happy to say. But the rest of it, yup, exactly the same. And yes, I think I might keep the husband around a bit longer …