I previously wrote that I was a genius in scheduling three appointments on one day, but it wasn't really so.
A reminder phone call alerted me to the fact that my checkup was Monday (day before yesterday), whereas my dermatology appointment is next Monday, so I will end up going back and forth twice after all.
No damage done. The checkup, followed by the therapeutic phlebotomy, was enough.
My counts are good, with platelets still still a little lower than normal but good enough considering that they were at rock bottom. My liver function is actually a little better. Melissa said we could talk to Dr. Alyea about maybe going down even lower on the prednisone. (I'm pretty low already at two mgs. a day.)
Dr. Marty always seems to find me in the waiting room. I'm just sitting there reading and I look up and see his smiling face. He came over to Dana-Farber to see me and then had to get back to the hospital. It is always a tonic just to see him.
I took my printout showing the good red count over to the Kraft Blood Donor Center to get the blood removed in the continuing effort to reduce the iron overload in my blood. First thing the phlebotomist wanted to do was stick my finger again to test my blood. To which I said no thanks. She called a supervisor over and the supervisor told her to check her folder on me. Much rustling through produced the paper showing my hemoglobin at 11.7 – well above the 11.3 cut off mark. You really have to advocate for yourself.
I usually plan to spend the night because this procedure makes you anemic and therefore tired. For some (silly) reason I thought I would just head home and didn't even announce my presence in Boston. I got only a couple of miles, realized how tired I was, and called Diane from a CVS parking lot. She didn't answer. I fell asleep right there.
Luckily she was indeed home. I made it there and fell deeply asleep on the couch. By the time I woke up it was too late to drive home, so I stayed for dinner and the night. Diane grilled salmon, which always tastes better than when I make it. I usually overcook it, which is my way of preparing many things.
I asked her how long she cooks it and said, "Don't tell me to cook it until it's done."
David was in the living room, and they said in unison, "Cook it until it's done."
No comments:
Post a Comment