Love Comes Bearing Tissues

Posted on February 24, 2009

1


It was 5:20pm on Monday evening. I was cleaning up my desk at work and was getting ready to leave for the night. I wrapped up my headphones, put my iPod away, and then grabbed my phone. Just as I was putting in my purse I felt a drip in my nose. I froze and held my head back slightly. More drips, warm liquid was filling my nose. I reached my hand to my nose when I brought it back fresh blood had stained my fingers.

I quickly made my way down the hallway and into the women’s bathroom. I pulled off two paper towels, crumpled them, and put them to my nostril. At first the flow of blood was slow, but within a minute or two I was struggling to keep up with the bright red liquid. Another minute passed and I was leaning my head over the sink further and further to keep the blood from running down my throat. More paper towels. The trash can was filling up with red splotched tissue.

Suddenly, I felt the cavity of my nose fill to the back. I kept replacing the tissue but there was just too much blood. The hot blood was starting to drip down the other side of my nose. Both nostrils were now bleeding.

Panic was setting in. Hands shaking. I was losing a lot of blood and it wasn’t slowing.

My phone, which was sitting on the counter out of the way, started to ring. The caller ID told me it was my boyfriend, S.O., was calling.

“Hello?”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Um, not too much. How are you?”
“I’m alright. How about you?”
“I’m not all that great.”
“How come?”

I had a choice. Either pretend like I was just fine and wait it out by myself or tell him exactly what was going on.

“I’m… in the middle of a massive nosebleed.”
“What? Are you okay?”

My fear and panic started creeping in and it tightened my throat. Hot saltwater filled the base of my eyes and I was able to muster a shaky “I don’t know.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

I was trying to balance the phone on my shoulder while simultaneously ripping paper towel after paper towel and stepping on the pedal on the trash can, letting each one fall on the mountain of tissues inside. The tears building in my eyes made their way down my cheeks.

My throat was so tight that all I could muster was: “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in two minutes. I’ll meet you out front.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too, babe. I’ll be there soon.”

I been in this situation the year before, and needless to say: things had gone much differently.

To be continued.

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Posted in: retrospect, the point