Got admitted to the hospital yesterday on a whim. Had some blood drawn at the clinic and they said my white count was too low......WAY too low. They wanted to pump me up with some platelets - the stuff they yank out of your blood that causes scabbing. I'm still wondering who's I got - maybe some starving college student? Maybe some near homeless fella? Maybe an immigrant named Juan? Who knows? Some Good Samaritan out there, getting stabbed with needles at fifty bucks a crack so I can have my platies.
So I got all checked in and they doused me for about forty-five minutes. All said and done it was about a 12 hour process. Hospitals work slow. Uck. The hospital beds on the 2nd floor are like prison beds and everything was broken. All the buttons on my bed were broken save for the "elevate back" position.
The nurse who came in to give me my IV let me know that she was "the best" before jabbing me in my elbow, my bicep and my forearm before finally getting it to stick.
We watched a show about face transplants on TV. Man gets malled by bear. Man needs new face. I have no real problems.
They ALSO got a count back on my HCG levels - that's those pesky cancer markers. A quick rundown on those - they started at 32, then jumped to 300 then jumped to 900, which was like, "whoa". That's "whoa" bad news, remember? One dose of chemo, easy does it and..........back at 300.
Lucky guy?
Doubt it. It's the prayers. It has to be and I refuse to believe anything else. I think we feel like often times praying doesn't "work" or doesn't work how we want it to.....but you know what? It's gotta work SOMETIMES - otherwise it wouldn't be a million year old practice - and right now is one of those times.
Miracles at work in our lives, folks.
Take it in.
Today I'm feeling GOLD. Those platelets really got me back on top. I'm eating and drinking way more and oh yeah, they gave me vicodin so that was nice.
My folks have been staying here with us to help out - well, my dad was here for about a week and a half but then the old man had to get back to the grind - brotha's gotta eat, y'know - but my mom is sounding like she's going to stay with us in LA for the long haul.
I was in bed and chilly earlier today and so she brought me in a blanket from her bed. i took a nap and when I got up I realized there were, like.....inch and a half long black hairs all over me. I couldn't shake em. Each time I thought I'd brushed them all away i'd find more. Then I went and took a pee and there were just a BUNCH of them all over the toilet seat - these much shorter, ew.
Anyway, I asked my mom if my dad sheds?
He's a fairly hairy fellow and I'd just figured that he'd been...........what's that called when a bear loses it's fur in warmer climates? They're from South Dakota so I just thought he was doing that and when she brought the blanket in from their bed, y'know, I got run off.
It was about this time that I ran my hand through my beard, just sort of one of those "hhhmmmm" things and low and behold, the largest chunk of hair I've ever seen just rolls off my face.
Today I have officially started to lose my hair.
Good news is, it's not really depressing, but it is sort of gross. I'm saying like......I can pull out enough hair from my face to fill up a bathroom brush, it's so much. And it just slides out painlessly, like some mangy old gopher's coat.
Oh well, at least I know I'm not sleeping in my daddy's pubes, hahaha.
THAT SAID, all good things!!!!
HOW ABOUT A FUNNY PICTURE OF MY DOG?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment