While I’ve been generally healthy for most of my life, I’ve had several instances of elective or emergency hospitalizations. The first of these involved a bleeding ulcer in which my hemoglobin dropped to around 6-7 g/dl. I was treated in a hospital in California, at the very beginning of the AID’s crisis. Although there were no tests for AIDs, I was going into shock and received my first transfusion.
My story begins a few years back…in Mérida, Yucatán, México where my brother and I were born and raised. My brother and I were the type of kids that would rarely get sick.
We were raised to be very independent, responsible, caring, hardworking people that loved spending time with friends and family and we shared a passion for helping others.
My story begins in after a routine, annual check-up with my doctor. I was 49 years young. Overall, my exam was uneventful, but a few days after my examination I received a call from the doctor’s office asking me to return for a second blood draw.
I really wasn’t concerned until my doctor said he couldn’t explain why my counts, particularly for my platelets and white blood cells, were so low. The anxiety began to climb when he referred me to a hematologist/oncologist. Healthy people don’t need to go there, do they?
