Blood, blood everywhere

Blood has historically been a thing of fear and excitement for humans.  It is brilliant in color, shocking in its thick hot stickiness, and seldom seen in great quantities by the average citizen. Which is a good thing.  It makes good sense to keep blood where it should be, on the inside tucked out of sight.

Unlike many animals, humans are able to distinguish the color red, making the experience of bleeding a richer and more compelling one.  We are drawn to the color, if not the other sensory experiences that accompany bleeding, like pain, fear, weakness, and the sound of our own screaming.  

I have noted that humans utilize the color red to indicate danger, the need to pay attention, or to stop.  We call red 'the power color'.  It truly is, on the most fundamental level, that of survival.  It is hard to ignore, overlook, or mistake for anything else when it makes a sudden appearance on one's body.  We begin an immediate search for the cause and attempt to correct it.  We know that we are, or someone else is, bleeding.  It says, "STOP".  And we do.  Not to do so is a poor decision.

In my profession, I see and handle a lot of blood.  Post surgical patients come out of the operating room with drains draining blood, bandages soaking up blood, reinfusion pumps pumping blood out and back in, and bags of the rich red stuff hanging from poles above them.  

Surgery today is really rather bloodless, compared to the old days of even ten years ago.  Ultra sound and fluoroscopy help guide smaller instruments into surgical fields, eliminating in most cases, the need to open a large incision for visual inspection.  Electric cauterizing scalpels instantly stop any bleeding vessel.  Blood that would have leaked from a surgical wound that could not be cauterized, like that from a joint, is recovered via a drain left in the site, filtered and cleaned, and reinfused without coming into contact with outside elements. A wonderful way to salvage the precious red stuff and improve patient outcomes.  But, in PACU, we still have to deal with it.

We measure it, record it, watch the clock to make sure it is still viable for reinfusion, order it for depleted patients.  We meticulously check and recheck, together with another nurse, to make sure the patient is getting the correct blood in the correct time frame, and then never leave the patient's side during the first critical fifteen minutes of transfusion in case of reaction. During that time, vital signs are taken and recorded every five minutes.

We need it, we pay attention to it, we give to those in need, we test it, match it, hoard it, and covet it, like a precious currency or commodity.  Blood is our, well, lifeblood.