Even in the most hopeless times

Last year I experienced the worst year of my life, and as always, it came out of nowhere. I was living with my partner over in Wales, on the other side of the world from my family, working and looking forward to a European summer. In about March, I had noticed I was bruising exceptionally easily, but the doctor quickly told me it was normal, so I didn’t give it a second thought.

A couple of months later, almost out of nowhere, my usual stroll to the train station felt like a marathon and I was exhausted. We had a big weekend planned, so I didn’t let it stop me. But the Sunday after our fun night out, I could barely walk, and even after sleeping a lot, nothing seemed any better on the Monday. I got dressed Tuesday morning for my office job, but thought it couldn’t hurt to see the GP. I was quickly sent to the hospital where I was pinned down with needles and surrounded by concerned doctors. It turned out, it wasn’t all nothing.

I was transferred to the haematology ward via ambulance, where my partner and mother-in-law arrived to support me. They didn’t know what was wrong so I simply chose not to worry until I needed to. All I knew was I’d be in for a few days, and that I didn’t want to worry anyone back home until necessary. I had needed a transfusion which they started at about 5pm, so I didn’t really think much about what I was wearing or the notion of being in hospital, surrounded by very ill women who were all smiling.

I was sharing a room with a very ill lady who kept to herself and two women who seemed like best friends, in similar stages of their leukaemia experience. Despite having only met recently, they were smiling, laughing and oh so welcoming of me, especially after my partner left. I was calm, and they made me feel that way – but it did occur to me that they may have thought I crazy being in there as I looked fine, just a bit weak.

But when it was around 10pm, my calmness disappeared almost instantly. I realised my bra was still on and my transfusion wasn’t anywhere near finished. How could I possibly sleep with a bra on? I started to panic, I was breathing heavily and felt constrained. I was in comfy clothes but couldn’t get my bra off due to the needle and blood being pumped into me. It may seem like nothing, but this random act of kindness set the tone for what would become a lengthy health battle. The bald woman next to me was getting ready for her chemo. She told me to undo my bra and try to slip it out my t-shirt. She then took it, popped it over the blood bag, and that was that. I was instantly calm, relieved and settled. Such a small thing but so kind, so helpful, and so comforting.

I went on to be diagnosed with a rare blood disease three weeks later and returned home to Australia for treatment. I follow that woman on Facebook and love seeing that she is now doing well with her hair back and enjoying days with her family. She and the other woman I shared a room with taught me how small acts of kindness and a good laugh can help even in the most hopeless times. – Luci ❤