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Dad couldn’t cure me, but it was enough to keep the strange disease at bay.
Sighing, I glanced down to see my medicine had stopped fizzling. It was ready. Placing a temporary catheter into my arm, I got the medicine into the syringe and injected it right into my system. Next, I unlocked the medical refrigerator I kept by the dresser and removed a small blood bag from it, connecting it to the catheter. Once the transfusion began, I hung the tiny blood bag from a hook on the wall next to me, lying back on my bed and closing my eyes.
Unfortunately, I needed one transfusion per week.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a full adult unit, but only a 75ml pediatric unit, which was enough to help my condition.
Also, it had to be my father’s blood.
There was something in it that was missing from mine, which caused the health issues I dealt with, so the weekly transfusions allowed me to get what I called a “super boost.”
The second his blood entered my bloodstream—mixing with the medicine—a rush of adrenaline coursed through me, annihilating the weakness I had felt, and filling me with a force I couldn’t really describe. I felt invincible.
As the hour passed, I focused on controlling my breaths while the effect captured every inch of me, muscles jumping with the energy rushing through them.
“Here, you left your backpack down—Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Patricia’s voice brought me down enough to open my eyes, and I found her at my door. She turned away, closing the door again—embarrassed.
Sitting up quickly, I disconnected the now empty bag and catheter, placing everything back in the metal box and locking it in the dresser. I hid the reusable syringe under my blanket to properly wash it in the bathroom later. I was very private when it came to my treatments. I didn’t like people looking at me while having to inject myself, and everyone in the house knew that so they left me alone.
“It’s okay, I’m done. But knock next time, please.”
“Of course, I’m so sorry. You were taking your medicine?”
“Yeah.” With a nod and a calming breath, I stood.
“Cool. I’m glad they help you feel better. Here’s your bag. Rosa wanted me to tell you dinner will be ready in thirty. She’s making your favorite—Beef Kare Kare.”
That brought a smile to my face; I loved Mrs. Reyes’ Filipino cooking. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Jose and I are leaving for the hospital now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
After cleaning the syringe, I locked it too and reached for the pull up bar behind the door, hooking it onto the frame. I decided to do a set before dinner. It was the easiest way to burn the “high” the treatments left in my body. It also helped keep my mind off what I would have to face tomorrow.
Every month it was the same. The daunting task always got the best of me. Still, it was part of my reality, one I couldn’t escape, no matter how much I wished it.
