The Finish Line

I live blood test to blood test.  It's a horrible way to live.

Every month I need to get my numbers checked.  And to be honest, I have no idea what they mean.  I know what constitutes a low white blood cell count, but only because my nurse or oncologist tells me it's low.

And I've learned enough to attempt to beat the system.  (My nurses are totally ratting me out to my doc right now).  I know not to get my blood drawn after a night when I've had alcohol.  I double up on the broccoli before a blood draw.  I dial down the stress and try to enter a "zen mode".  I go on a full stomach, look for a solid stool, and pray.

I was re-diagnosed on May 30, 2018.  I spent the summer of 2018 rejecting a drug meant to save my life.  By the fall, I was put on a new drug that IS saving my life.  In December, my PET scan showed that all of my cancerous lesions had either disappeared or were greatly reduced.  That's damn good shit.

Since the new year, I've had some lackluster blood tests.  Seems that my white blood cell counts have hovered in the danger zone.  What's the danger zone?  I am highly immunosuppressed, and I am highly susceptible to infection.  Stay away from the sick, school kids, a hospital.  That, at minimum, is the danger zone.

Thing is (knock on a crazy amount of wood!) I've been well.   I haven't been hospitalized because of low counts, and I haven't fallen ill.  And yet, I am immensely fatigued.  Even my highly passionate behavior drains my soul.  I can do a load of laundry and need a nap.  Grocery shopping relies on my oldest to help bring in the goods.  I could sleep for days.

Yeah, the numbers aren't good and I am highly fatigued.  BUT, my cancer has shrunk.  In some spots, it's undetectable. And when my doctor suggested the option to dose reduce (lower the dosage of my medication), I said, not a chance.  Hell no.  Not gonna happen.

Until I'm in the hospital.  Until I'm sick with an infection.  Screw my numbers.  I'm gonna fight the good fight.  And I plan to win.

I may be overly fatigued.  I may be losing my eyebrows, my eyelashes, my overall hair.  But I am winning.  Screw my numbers and my overall appearance.

My attitude has it all beat.

See you at the finish line.




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