When I was three years old I had been starting to get a lot of nose bleeds and bruises in weird places and scrapes and cuts that wouldn't clot my mom has told me on multiple occasions. My parents thought that this was a common thing, since as kids that were always running around and bumping into things, my older sister and I were always getting hurt. But it wasn't.
When I was four years old I had a seven and a half hour nose bleed that my mom says started when I woke up from it at about three thirty in the morning before crying and calling for Kirstin whom was in the bed next to me. Kirstin saw all the blood and immediatly knew this was something bad so she ran up to my mom and woke her up. I remember my mom bringing down a towel and picking me up before taking me back up to her room and sitting me in her lap while she tried to get my nose bleed under control. My mom assured me that this was just another nose bleed and that all kids got them, but again, it wasn't. It would clot for about ten to twenty minutes before starting up again.
Eventually it got so bad my mom called the clinic as soon as they opened at eight and told them she was taking me in. After an hour in the doctor's office and a platelet transfusion they told my mom to get my dad and bring me down to Children's Hospital in the cities for further testing.
They did that and we had gotten there at about one in the afternoon and waited for all of fifteen seconds before getting me admitted and the doctors taking more blood. I remember them giving me a gown to wear because my clothes were stained with blood. They took seven vials of blood for seven or eight different tests, I'm not sure how many honestly, but I remember the seven vials. My dad, like me, has a fear of needles and so he waited in the waiting room while my mother went back to the room with me and covered me with my blanket and sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star about thirty seven times while they took the blood before bringing me to a transfusion room to get more platelets.
I remember sitting on my mom's lap while I got the second platelet transfusion of that day and after about fifteen minutes of being in transfusion my doctor came to us with the terrible news. He brought my dad in with him so I knew this couldn't be good since my dad was standing near a needle that was currently in my arm that was giving me close to 25,000 to 100,000 platelets that my body wouldn't make to clot my blood.
The doctor looked us all in the eyes before telling us that I was suffering from a blood dissorder that affects the platelets called Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura, or I.T.P. for short. He told us it wasn't hereditary and that it was just a mess up in the DNA reading on my 23 set X chromosomes. When I had gotten my platelet counts the first time at the clinic in my hometown I was told I had about 25,000 platelets in my entire body and my platelet count once I had gotten to childrens was about 95,000 to 105,000 platelets approximatly.
The doctor also told us that it usually affects children ages 2 through 4 and that I should out grow it and I should just try and live life to it's fullest. I remember that there were days that I couldn't participate in gym class, go out to recess, or even bumped some days so when I'd go to school I'd have to give a note to my teacher and I'd be in the class room all day. Luckily my teachers gave me printed off coloring pages and crayons or markers and would let me color while the rest of the kids were at recess. I remember one day my brother was at recess and the vent leading up to my class room was right by him so we had a complete conversation while I was supposed to be at recess but couldn't from my I.T.P..
I am now sixteen years old and though I do suffer the occasional nose bleed and bruises I haven't had any major ones and I am glad I can be here to share my story. Without donated platelets, I would be gone. Thank you to all whom can, will, and have donate.
ChelseaBelseaSmiles Community Member 
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