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On the day before yesterday I wrote: "I don't know if I was more disappointed that my platelet level is going down, or that, although I was just at the threshold for another platelet transfusion, my HemOnc wanted to wait until tomorrow for a new blood draw to decide on transfusion." Today I am here to say, "Always listen to your HemOnc!" 

I had a blood draw yesterday, and my blood counts are rebounding! Hemoglobin is up a bit; platelets are up to the point that I will need to be back on blood thinners because of my deep vein thrombosis (DVT), and my neutrophils are coming back! Neutrophils mean immunity, and their presence is tracked by a datum dubbed Absolute Neutorphil Count (ANC). And mine is on the rise!! And that makes me feel better physically and emotionally.

Typically, when my blood counts begin to rebound, the numbers come up pretty quickly. So, I anticipate that platelets and ANC will be into the normal ranges by Monday, just in time for my return to Club Sunnyside on Wednesday for my final round of chemotherapy. As I always tell the oncology team, when I arrive back at the Club, "I'm feeling great, but I am sure you can fix that."

Now, here's the best news of all. After my lab results were posted yesterday, Sara, an RN from the oncology department, called to cancel the transfusion we had tentatively scheduled for this morning. No, wait, that's not the best news. The best news is that she is going to put together a schedule of tentative transfusion appointments for my next, post-chemo recovery period, so we won't be scrambling to keep me out of the ER. No, wait, that's not the best news. The best news is that my next consolidation chemotherapy round is the last one the team anticipates. So, the really best news is that after that round, my body will have time to completely recover from the chemotherapy, including, I hope, a return to normal red blood cell levels. At that point I will no longer be anemic for the first time in months. 

So, the end of anticipated treatment is in sight. Of course, as Jill says, I am a lifer with the oncology department. There will be continuous monitoring to see how I am doing after all of this treatment. And the ultimate outcome of this journey is up to the Great Physician. But I look forward to more normalcy in my life physically as well as socially, when I can end my quarantine, and perhaps, even do a bit of work without becoming exhausted. 

And so, dear reader, I have a few requests for those of you who are inclined to pray. Please pray for: 1) another good tolerance of the chemo-therapy in this final round, 2) that the Great Physician will continue to bless me with good outcomes from the treatment, 3) wisdom and discernment for Dr. Waugh and the rest of the hematology/oncology team, 4) that I will bring glory to my Savior as He continues to walk with me through this ordeal. 

 

 FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

One night I dreamed a dream.
I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one belonging to me and one to my Lord.
When the last scene of my life shot before me I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
There was only one set of footprints.
I realized that this was at the lowest and saddest times of my life.
This always bothered me and I questioned the Lord about my dilemma.
“Lord, You told me when I decided to follow You, You would walk and talk with me all the way.
But I’m aware that during the most troublesome times of my life there is only one set of footprints.
I just don’t understand why, when I need You most, You leave me.”
He whispered, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you, never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you.”
― Margaret Fishback Powers