She's been playing a song from the opera "Hansel and Gretel" that has gotten stuck in our heads. Various translations give it different names; in hers it is called "Brother Come and Dance With Me." As we approached Dana-Farber, I began singing my own lyrics to the catchiest part of the song: "This is what I do for fun, this is what I do for fun, fun fun fun, fun fun fun, this is what I do for fun."
When I went to get my blood drawn, the nurse opened my files and said something about "antecubital fossa." For a brief moment I panicked at this new word. "What are they looking for now?" I wondered. The nurse explained that it was just the term for where they usually draw my blood – the depression at the bend of the elbow. Oh.
I knew my platelets would be low, because I was counting petechiae (tiny burst blood vessels) again, and I was right: They were a pathetic 4. I was surprised to learn that I also needed blood because I had just gotten it a week ago and I felt OK. My hematocrit was a borderline 25. My white count, at least, was stable.
I saw Melissa before I went into the infusion room and she said that she and Dr. Alyea would come in to see me. "He has some ideas about why all of this is happening," she said, referring to the low platelets and rbc. Panic time again: "What KIND of ideas? Bad ideas?" I said to myself. I kept it in, though, and went off to get transfused.
When they came in, Alyea said my body was obviously chewing up platelets and red blood cells. He said it will probably help when they take me off of one of my drugs, Prograf, but it's too early to do that now. He said he was putting me on a low dose of steroids for the GVHD found in my esophagus, and that this might help with my platelets and rbcs.
Neither of my scary projections came true. I wish my mind would leave me alone.
I closed the place down again at 7:30 p.m. Katie drove back with no problem. All in all it was fun fun fun.
