I'm the proud wife
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Click here to see why! If you don't see anything that resonates, click on refresh until you do. Once you get the right spot, you will know it!
I didn't ask you how you wanted your good news, so I guess you just have to take it how it comes. . . and here it comes!
I don't have IT!
I'm sure this is a relief to all of you. Oh, no, wait, you didn't know the doctors were even considering that I might have "it".
It all started about 2 years ago. I had a regular blood test and it came back as anemic. No biggie, been there, done that. But is was sufficiently low that my doctor wanted me to see a specialist -- a hemotologist (and, oh, by the way, oncologist). I saw her. She said, hmmmmmm. Your white cell count is low too, let me do more tests, . . . and more tests. Oh, you have monoclonal protein, hmmmmmmmm . . . Let's do a bone marrow biopsy. Okay seem me in another 6 months. . . . And again in another six months. hmmmmmmmmm. Your platlets are also low. Let's do another bome marrow biopsy. hmmmmmmm You don't really have enough cells in your bone marrow, I want you to see a specialist at the Cleveland Clinic.
I saw him a month ago. I brought him my slides of my bone marrow and he took 10 vials of blood (actually, the phlebotomist did) and made another appointment for this last week.
And he said, "You seem to be okay!" I had been dealing with this sword of Damacles by whistling in the graveyard, so it was hard to get excited about being rescued from a danger I was so busy ignoring, but those were sweet words. I'm not exactly sure what 'It' was, but he did say, "We ruled out some pretty nasty things. Oh, and I want to see you in another three months."
I guess I don't have to clean the attic after all. At least, not for another three months.
How do you want to receive bad news? Not that I have any at the moment, but if I should, I would prefer to know your favored mode of delivery.
Last night Mendon was on the front porch talking to Kristen on Skype while blogging. Daddy was sitting in the rocker talking to Gramma on the cordless phone while watching something on TV. And I was in the kitchen, barefoot, standing at the sink pitting sour cherries picked from our tree.
I think I told everyone that Grampa has been admitted to the VA respite care center, right? That was 4 weeks ago.
Last night Daddy called Gramma (we try to call her every other day at a minimum, to sort of check up on her) and she was so tired, she couldn't complete her sentences. He became concerned and called the fire department. After some convincing on their part, they took her to Parma Community General Hospital, where she was admitted. Gramma has pneumonia. We went to visit them both today, and Gramma is much better, thank you. She really did look good. Poor Grampa, on the other hand, was, as always, in a lot of pain. He was so happy to see us and thanked us for coming to see him. It just broke my heart to have to leave him.
I'm not sure how long Gramma will be in the hospital. I will keep you all posted.