Dear Gang:
I’ve been betrayed. If I could beat my body out of our gang – I would. You know what my turncoat body did? It’s unspeakable I tell you – just unspeakable.
I go to the doctor’s yesterday with just the right amount of “jeepers creepers” remorse that my platelets and red blood cells aren’t responding and we’ll probably have to cut short the chemo program (while I ride the remission horse into the sunset). I had it all set -- my fake devastation and disappointment and my consoling pat on the shoulder to the doc. “It’s okay, doc. I’ll be fine.”
You know what my stinking bone marrow does while I’m rehearsing and fantasizing about an early return to work (I hope everyone at DOL read that). Yup, you guessed it. It screwed me! My innards magically began to produce platelets, red blood cells, and hemoglobin. Can you believe it?
Now I’m screwed ;it’s back to the chemo chain gang. Oh well, I go back to the hospital when my platelets get above 50,000. They were 17,000 yesterday. Since my Benedict Arnold body is now producing platelets again it should move pretty fast. If I were a gambling man, I’d say early next week, although I plan to pack a chemo bag for doctor’s visit Thursday – just in case.
Joking aside, I was very worried we had done permanent damage to the platelet producing capacity of my body. This is very good news.
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