Tomorrow's post will be shorter. (Yeah, right!)

But just had to say, feeling good. Actually, too good. Inside and out. Like a million tax-free bucks. Scary. Have addicted my mom to selling books at amazon.com (sales have been steady - she's an avid reader and keeps the books immaculate), going to get her hooked on eBay soon (she's loving this paring down of Her Stuff), helping her with business matters involving my Dad's death, enjoying her friends, enjoying her church, her pastor Ross Olivier from South Africa...stunning topics he talks, was a prisoner in a South African prison, yes -- a fascinating story. Plus I just have to say, I love his accent. So, we went today, really nice, they'd tributed all the people passed in 2006, my Dad in the rollcall, today's podcast to be in here soon. (Wow, site updated with Flash intro.)

Anyway, except for this *not making platelets thing*, I've gotten more done in the past two weeks than the last 13 years. What gives?

Ok, off to the update, doctor's appointment tomorrow: My prediction, based on me getting used to my body's routine -- I have lost a few platelets, but my number will be high. We'll see.

You know, I feel so well (meds, recovery, God/good and the earthly angels to me, all of y'all, the exceptional care of UMC Jackson and Drs. Joe Files and Carolyn Bigelow and too many staff at the Adult Hematology/Oncology Clinic UMC and UMC Bone Marrow Transplant Unit to mention, and I'd also like to thank The Academy for my mother's magic wand with this saving my life thing,), I have purposefully become my mother's House Elf.

"Want me to do laundry, want a cup of coffee, need the trash taken out? Birdfeeders filled? How 'bout that hottub back there - let's get it serviced."

Got this PICC Line right arm humming and clicking away like a sweet, vanilla-scented Valentine candy arm. I'm literally in love with it because it means they just fill me up right there, in my right arm, rather than stick me (no good veins, and me with the blood disorder - that's me). I feel bionic. I have a digiphoto, but haven't posted it since I know it might gross some of you out (Ron). Not me. It fascinates me. "What the PICC Arm Wants, The PICC Arms Gets" is my motto. Swedish massage with scented oils and powder? You got it, Valentine. Now, let's go outside and fill up birdfeeders. I love you, PICC Line.

Started thinking about irony. So, this whole itp/aplastic anemia thing started because, what, they don't know, someone walked by me and sneezed some vague virus in my face on an elevator ride way back in 2006, right? Never even knew it. Me, I stayed tired, so who could tell. Life was just pure stress for a long time, and that sets off itp-like disorders. (That is why I stress to you, do not stress.) So, my body did what bodies do -- switched on antibodies and started cleaning house, as antibodies are designed. And then, in an innocent-but-ugly turn, they never switched off and began attacking healthy cells, my platelets and maybe stem cells. In the end, they over-cleaned me.

Irony: I'm running around this house just exactly like an antibody gone wild. I've cleaned everything in this house, and started longing to pick up sticks in the yard. Am I just dangerous? Will I begin attacking my mother's small dishes (bad attempt at making a jokey reference to "platelets", sorry.)

No. I will just end up selling them on eBay for her.

I'm so funny, right? You just have to laugh. Throw me a bone. With some marrow in it!


For those playing the pool,
Last stats:
last visit, scored big from some divine donor,
ending up with a post-count of 91k,
which is the highest platelet count
I have probably had in months, unknowingly.
tomorrow: I will walk with no tranfusion
to guess a number, 76K

Soon, I will be guessing how many days between doctor's visits.
At first, it was "come in every 2-3 days",
this last batch has lasted 5 days, I can tell,
but until I make my own, they say, in the next two months...
argghh...my life in Memphis, remember?
when do I get back to it...
will the doctors here stop loving me because
me'n'mo stop coming, bearing donuts...
the story goes on, only days at a time... and boy,
this has taught me something I never had before:
patience and the true meaning of being a patient.


short-term goal: 100k
long-term goal: 315k