Due to The Girl’s rare blood disorder, she had to be taken to the hospital at least once a week for blood draws.
It was unbelievably sad to watch The Girl get heel pokes. She’d cry and cry until it was over, and it seemed to get worse and worse each time, until one day, The Girl just stopped reacting. She didn’t cry, she didn’t squirm, she just watched quietly as if nothing was happening at all.
The fist pump signifies how tough she is. Super Preemie!
The Girl was discharged from the hospital, at long last. She was famished. She had spent 12 whole hours at the hospital, and didn’t eat during any of those hours. Usually, The Girl went to The Mother concerning this issue, but she was so hungry that she just couldn’t wait.
“Alfred, do you have a flavor?”
Author’s Note: There is an image at the top of this post behind the cut that is of my baby with an IV in her head. I’m really squimish, and I don’t think it’s bad, it’s all covered in tape, and you can’t clearly see the insertion site. As a mother, it’s hard to look at, but it’s not vom-worthy. Keep that in mind before you click!
If you didn’t click and wanna know what the post was about, please e-mail Alfred at speakwithalfred(shift+2)gmail.com. He’ll tell you anything you wanna know, within reason! ;)
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Somehow, Alfred didn’t get any donations. He happened to glance at a clock while he was strolling through the lobby, and realized he had been gone a little longer than he intended.
“We gotta get back there, and fast!” Alfred said to The Mother.
“Yeah, but how?” she responded.
Alfred happened upon an “EZ-GO.”
Alfred couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t watch as one nurse after another after another blew through The Girl’s veins. He couldn’t stand to see the look on her face after they finally got the IV to work in her precious little head. He stayed with her for a long time, waiting for her to wake up to play, but she did not. He waited for her to wake up to eat, but she did not. She needed her rest, so Alfred quietly slipped out.
Alfred felt the room spin. “I can’t be here right now,” he thought. He headed down to the cafeteria, but there was no food suitable for him to eat. He overheard one of the nurses telling The Mother about a second cafeteria in the Adult Cancer Center.
“Let’s go to the Adult Cancer Center.”
“No, I am le tired.”
“Then go take a nap. And then let’s go to the Adult Cancer Center!!”
The Mother didn’t have a place to nap, so they moseyed on over to the Adult Cancer Center. The first thing Alfred saw was a Grand Piano, so he played a little song.
That is your name.
You are so pretty
That it is insane. ♥
Alfred is very talented, no?
Alfred didn’t understand. Hadn’t they done this before? Didn’t the last transfusion work?
Alfred was angry, he wanted answers. Alfred threw a hissy fit. At that exact moment in time, a tear did NOT creep out of Alfred’s eye, and it was NOT accompanied by several relatives.
The Mother sighed. She had been there, too. She was still there, but she was better than Alfred at hiding it.
“I like to think of her as a tank truck. A big, strong, military tank,” The Mother began. slowly. “Although tanks are very powerful, sometimes, they run out of gas, and they need to be refilled.” The Mother smiled, faintly.
Alfred absorbed what he had been told. He was quiet for a brief moment.
“I don’t think The Girl ever runs out of gas,” Alfred said, very seriously.
What did the “S” stand for? Nobody knows but The Girl, if it even meant anything at all. A key reason to start baby signing is to help your child express herself when she can’t find the words to show her feelings, but it seems that The Girl had no problems expressing how she really felt, and it was obvious that she was NOT to be messed with.