My Counts Are Going Up

  It has been about 18 days since my last chemotherapy ended.  Finally my blood counts are slowly creeping up.  My marrow appears to be replacing my blood cells.  A week ago my white blood count was .1 and today it is .6.  My platelets are at 39 when a week ago they were 17.  I haven't had a transfusion in more than a week.  My red cell count is still staying the same but will soon start to climb.  The white cells and platelets are short lived so the marrow makes them at a faster rate.  The red cells can live about 40 days so they are made at a slower rate.  

 I have what they call petechiae all over my legs but mostly on my calves.  Petechiae are red marks caused from capillaries breaking just under the skin because of my low platelet count.  The dead skin that has accumulated by layers on my feet is looking like a thick crust.  I can't wait to get home and soak and scrub my feet with a pumice stone. 

   My hands are cleaner than I have ever seen them.  There is not a trace of ground in dirt in my palms.  I have no callouses. 

    My hair is still there but it has quit growing.  I haven't needed to shave for about three weeks.  My scalp still has hair but it's a little thinner.  

 My fevers have subsided and I no longer feel the need to nap off and on in the day time.  

  I may be discharged for a while, possibly before the end of the week.  It depends on how my blood counts are.  I don't know how long I will be allowed to leave until I have to come back for another round of chemo.  

  There is no word yet about whether I will be needing a bone marrow transplant.   

  Overall I feel as good now as I have since I entered this place.  I can barely feel the mouth sores that were bothering me so much last week. 

  Billie comes in twice a day and stays later in the evening.  In the morning she brings me fresh coffee from Peets.   Sometimes we watch Netflix movies. Most of the time we sit and talk or read the daily paper. Tonight I am looking forward to a break from the food here when Billie will be bringing in some homemade pizza.    I am so tired of the food here.  The menu rotates the same items every week.  I don't think I can ever look at another carrot coin.  

  My daily routine is the same.  The IV pumps tethered to me are constantly ticking and buzzing . Doctor Ong visits once or twice  day.  The nurses take my vital signs about every four hours and dispense my daily drug cocktail.  At 0400 AM the night nurse draws my blood and a few hours later the results come back.  Lately my night nurse seems as excited as I am as we watch my counts go up.  She can't wait to deliver the results to me.  My meals come at o700 1200 and 0500. 

   I can walk laps around the floor.  There is an atrium that I can go outside to and sit in the sun for a while.  Out on the floor there is a scale.  I have lost about ten pounds since I have been here.  Most of my weight loss appears to be muscle mass.  I can see it when I look at my legs.  My thighs seem a lot thinner.  My whole body does not seem to have much tone left.  

  As I write this I am listening to "the Prairie Home Companion".  I have KQED public radio playing through iTunes.   KQED has been in the background most of my stay here.  

  I really miss home.  I miss most of all being with Billie sleeping next to Billie.  The doggies are going to be happy to see me.  I really miss them too.  I hate to say I have a favorite.  Mojo is the happiest dog and he is so much fun to just watch.  His tail moves at a constant 200 wags per minute.  He holds a ball or a grapefruit in his mouth at all times if he is not throwing it at your feet.  The grapefruit is a kind of a ball.  There is a tree outside that is constantly dropping balls.  The grapefruits don't last long before they become split and crushed.  He then will start to manically eat the grapefruit wincing the whole time from the sour taste.  The trash is always full of disintegrated grapefruits.   Mojo is also the best watchdog. He sounds like the most vicious dog you have ever heard from behind the closed front door.  No stranger would dare enter after hearing that sound.  He won't ever attack though and prefers to go in his crate and bark from inside there.  He is actually the sweetest dog.  If you show him a ball he will instantly forget the watchdog stuff. 

 I feel I am closer than ever to home sweet home.  I can't complain about the care I have been getting here at this hospital.  I made friends with much of the staff here.  I still have a long way to go fighting this cancer.  For now though, I can't wait for a break from here at home.