If it ain't broke...
BOX SCORE |
|
|
|
Element |
Current |
Std. Range |
Trend |
Hemoglobin |
9.0 |
13-17 |
^ |
Platelets |
163 |
140-375 |
v |
ANC |
3260 |
1800-8300 |
^ |
I believe the first time I heard the adage, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it," was during my sailing days. There was a crowd of sailors that hung around together pretty much every weekend. One of them, Fred, had a bit of a hippy mentality. He had a degree in mechanical engineering, but he only worked about three days a week. He figured there was no reason to break his back earning more money than he actually needed to keep body and soul together.
Fred had an old boat that was in reasonably good condition when I met him, but little by little it looked older and more worn. And yet Fred did little or nothing by way of maintenance. When I asked him why he didn't take care of some of the more obvious shortcomings, his reply was, "I figure if it ain't broke, why fix it? If it breaks, I'll fix it."
A year or so later, Fred put his boat up for sale, so he could buy a bigger boat and go to sea. He and his wife had dreamed of living aboard a cruising vessel, and their youngest son was about to graduate from high school. So, the die was cast. My brother bought that boat of Fred's. One Saturday I went down to the moorage, where he kept his new baby. As I approached, I could hear some off color language.
"Ahoy, the boat," I called. Charlie poked his head out of the cabin and said, "Oh, hi." I asked him what was going on, and he said, "I'm trying to de-Fred-ize this damn boat." Apparently, in spite of his background in engineering, Fred had a habit of "fixing" things that were "broke" by the quickest, least expensive means possible, figuring, I suppose, that if it "broke" again, he'd "fix it" again. Charlie dealt with a lot of frustration during the time he owned that boat.
Last Friday, we had a phone conversation with Dr. Brow. After inquiring as to how I was feeling (good), she said my blood counts were looking good, and she would like to have me admitted to the hospital for some more "consolidation chemotherapy." If you are a follower of this blog, you will realize that this is a kind of pattern. Once I have finished a round of chemotherapy, it takes my body a while to recover and resume producing the blood cells I need. During the recovery period, I usually have to be in quarantine, due to low immunity, and my red blood cell (RBC) and blood platelets counts go down to dangerously low levels. Then I get a series of transfusions to replace whatever is missing: RBCs, or as I call them Red Ryders, and/or platelets; that's Golden Beauties in my lingo.
And about the time all of the blood counts get into the "standard range" again, off they send me to Club Sunnyside for some more chemotherapy. Although I know the answer to the question, I am sometimes tempted to ask, "If it ain't broke, why fix it."
Now in addition to this little bit of frustration, you followers of the blog will recognize another pattern that seems to have been developing over the nearly three years of this journey. Can you guess?
In June, 2021, I was admitted to Kaiser Permanente Sunnyside Medical Center because of "wonky" (that's a true medical term, we have discovered) blood counts. I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) and treated to the hospitality of the Oncology staff for the next thirty days. Now here it comes: during that stay, Jill and I celebrated our wedding anniversary and later my birthday.
Two and a half years later, after my AML relapsed for the second time, I was admitted to the same institution. That time, I stayed from the middle of December (2023) until the middle of January (2024). Do you see it coming? Yep! We celebrated Christmas and New Years Day in the hospital.
Well, now I am directed to check in tomorrow at the "Club" for a five day stay, which will include (ready?) spring break week and Easter! Jill and I like to joke that whenever we have a couple of events on the calendar, we check in to the hospital. I mean, doesn't everybody? The hospital stays are not onerous, except that Jill, trouper that she is, faithfully drives 120 miles round trip daily to be with me. The hard part for me is the inconvenience of the recovery period, with the quarantining and the transfusions.
So, here we go again. Each of these episodes makes bone marrow transplant (BMT) seem more appealing.
I wonder what it is like to spend a holiday/special occasion with family and friends. Don't get me wrong, we have grown to love the oncology staff at the Club, but sometimes a guy likes a little variety, right? Nevertheless, The Great Physician is in charge of this whole operation, and He knows best.
I pray the "Club" stay goes smoothly and you rebound quickly Tom. Prayers for you and Jill!!! Donalynn
ReplyDeleteQuick recovery and blessed Easter!
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