Owen's autopsy revealed some evidence of abnormal bleeding, especially in his brain, which is believed to have led to his death. There really is no explanation for this bleeding which is usually the result of severe trauma (for example, a major car accident or if someone beat the cr@p out of me), cocain.e use, some sort of bleeding disorder (either mine or his), or the oh so satisfying "unknown etiology."
Since we could easily rule out the first two, the doctors suggested that, while it is highly unlikely I have any bleeding disorder given my history of no bleeding problems and two healthy living children, I consult with a hemotologist. So, given my insane need to try and find a reason for all of this, we decided to go for it. I met with hematologist/oncologist several weeks ago. She was nice but her office is in a major cancer center. She ordered a whole slew of blood tests, the last of which I had done this morning. You know your life really sucks when the bald, emaciated cancer patients in the waiting room are tearing up and telling you how sorry they are for you. These particular tests required drawing what felt like half my blood volume for platelet testing and then something the lab tech called a bleeding time test. This was great fun. Basically, he put a blood pressure cuff on my arm, pumped it up, gouged my forearm, and stood there watching me bleed. I guess it went well. After the test was over, he was bandaging me up and commented, "You are so fair, this definitely going to leave a scar. You'll probably have it the rest of your life." I replied, "At least this one will be visible."