Wednesday, 15 September 2010

Blood from a stone

Another handy little phrase. What prompted such a title I hear you cry. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

Once upon a time there was a team of haematologists who worked together in a hospital in a land called the Black Country. Despite its foreboding name the people who lived there were not dark, but cheerful, happy go lucky and almost always laughing. Now for reasons unknown to the people of the Black Country, it appeared that only those of 5' 6" or below were allowed to practice the art of blood management.

Now one of the people who regularly visited the vertically challenged team was a giant of a man. Unlike our friendly haematologists he had over 6' of body around which his brave red blood cells had to travel. So when his Hb fell to 10, they really struggled to reach all of it efficiently. The little people though had never experienced this and kept on telling the giant they wouldn't give him any of their precious elixir. The poor man became more and more listless, he no longer felt like laughing and found it difficult to walk from his horse to the ward.

Then yesterday while he sat looking grey and tired, a fairy godmother by the name of Donna appeared. She took one look at the poorly man and waved her magic wand. Before he knew it, the fairy had managed to get blood from a stone and organised that the man have two units of blood the following day. The man was so relieved, that had he had the energy, he would have danced for joy.

The End.
(With a bit of luck everyone will live happily ever after.)