Doing well, mostly.
Been feeling like 40 miles of bad road since about Wednesday or Tuesday. I’m operating on, like, two cylinders. When that happens, I start to get depressed. It's a physiological thing.
Went to lunch with a friend on Thursday, but that was all I could manage.
Visited with my oncologist, Dr. N, yesterday morning. The blood test (CBC) showed that my platelets plummeted again: down to 30! Plus my blood cell and hemoglobin numbers were way low. (Hgb 9.3.)
I sat there with my CBC printout, waiting for N, wondering: when do one’s struggles to stay alive become unseemly?
I half expected Dr. N to come in and say, “You’ve had a good run, old boy. Time to just go off into a corner and die.”
Turns out such thoughts were premature. N came in and said: “That’s why you feel lousy and tired. It’s the chemo and the anemia. You’re doing all right.”
Is it time for a transfusion? Not yet. Not until my platelets are down to 20 or so.
So I got a red blood cell booster shot, was told to return on Tuesday, and then got spun out the door into the bracing Newport Beach air.
I do feel better this fine morning. That's the booster talkin'.
Teddy says "hey."