Ever see two 55+ people, who shouldn’t be dancing, break out into a little jig at the oncologist’s office? When my wife does it; it is cute. When I do it; people run down the halls shouting, “It’s hideous, hideous. Ahhhhhh. My eyes! Make it stop!”
There are several staff members at Medical Oncology and Hematology Consultants (MOHC) who were holding their eyes and scheduling corneal transplants this afternoon after Kate and I talked to Dr. Martin (best damn onc in the world I tell you) and began our impromptu rug cutting.
It appears I am so good to go in fact, I don’t have to see Dr. Martin for eight months! Not six months, like the past three years, but eight.
All my blood numbers look great.
My platelets were up to 122! Did you hear that 122! They haven’t been that high since my second chemo round so long ago. My red blood looks good and my neutrophil is a smidge high, because I have the edge of a cold. I have to get a flu shot and should consider a pneumonia shot too. Groovy huh?
I wasn’t surprised. Never a doubt in my mind (I er, ah, um refer you to yesterday’s blog).
Well it looks like I’m gonna make it. Yep. Gonna make it. I am thrilled about the eight month thing.
I so appreciate everyone’s passive vibes over the past three years. Just so you know, not only do I believe in angels, but I believe in the multiplicative power of good will, grace, and prayer. It’s like that old thing about a butterflies wings in Kansas can start a tsunami in the Pacific.
I just wanted to update you.
Love to all!