What an Odd Day

Geez.  I never did get sleep last night.  Probably because phriend Pham indicated that if red blood was currency, I'd be near destitute.

Finally got there by 7 AM.  Traffic is not horrible, but still a slow down.  After having to set some arrogant doctor straight, I got them to speak to my team, as they should have done from the get go.  I will address some of this with Scripps admin.  If I have to deal with stupid medical outfits, they need to correct some of the glaring deficiencies.  Had I not held my ground, this dork would have been taking stool samples and doing other unpleasant and contextually inappropriate procedures.

He finally hid from me the rest of the day.  But his boss will get some fire when I return.

They did the bone marrow biopsy---talk about a pain in the butt.  It had its moments.  Those results come next week.  Looks like the game has changed but no use guessing specifics because I only know the general possibilities and they get treated differently from one another.

I had a friggin blood transfusion.  Takes three hours.  So, if I were strongly tied to certain religions, or if I were my late mother, I would have refused it and shortly run out of reds and platelets and been overrun with white cells.  I did not think the prognosis would be good even in the short run without the fill up.  "High test!", I said, "with Techron."   They complied.  Only the best for me. A negative.

The best thing is, people think I don't look sick or infirm.  Better to look good than to feel good.
It's possible this can be controlled with various high dollar substances like forms of interferon.

When I think how fortunate I am to have access to some top notch doctors and facilities (despite the previously mentioned shortfalls)  I am grateful.  Many people around the world would just have to die.   I'm also glad I made it a point to supplement my commie medicare (joking--but only partly), and I have supplement for prescriptions.  Some stuff is pricey.  So I did that right.

I am not as depressed as I was.  Maybe because I knew this was coming, and maybe because I temporarily have some juice in my veins.  Other than my traditional mix of ice water and lemon juice--no sweetener.

Doctors don't know what to make of me.  Especially me singing the praises of denial as a treatment strategy, and making the guy doing the bone marrow swear he is an artiste in this field.

So odd, it feels like this is all child's play and I am just going along with it.  But I do not feel like one of the afflicted.  More like a research project or something.  That disconnect is likely the denial part, but why get into it in a way that makes one feel bad?

I am still convinced this is going to turn around or work to my ultimate better good.  It will be OK.  Really.

Great gigs this weekend, Nate's Garden Grill---they love us, and are very kind and they have food I not only can eat, but I also like---not always the norm in vegetarian land.  Not like Pine House.  Wonderful place, but no good for my dietary habits.  The tomorrow night, Rebecca's coffee house.  Never know how that will work.  Nice enough place. Half the time I know 80% of the room, but sometimes interesting beings visit.

Then Sunday afternoon the Adam's Avenue Street fair.  Outdoor stage and who knows what kind of crowd, but plenty of people, whatever they be.  It's an artsy sort of place.  I think many crave our leader/singer, Sande, in a KD Lang sort of way, if you get that.  OK by me.  I like KD's version of Hallelua almost as well as a girl from Australia who used to communicate with me on garageBand.com.

OK.  So I whined about transfusions and hooplah, and who knows what.  I feel positive in an automatic way; not forced, thought out or contrived.  Just feel OK with everything.  But will be even more OK when we tackle this mess.  Not really that bad.  Just not to my liking or expectation of how one should keep the property of others, as in landlord's pad.

I can only hope that those who reject transfusions no matter what are wrong.  I don't know the alleged consequences, probably varies with individual holy persons and their particular dogma.  That is not to ridicule them.  I am for choice.  Maybe they are right---for them.  I feel protected by something unseen.  I just do.  And I really am.  But I do not know the ins and outs of all that.  I just feel like It will be alright, whatever It turns out to be.

My story is so full of prodigious little rescues and such.  If you were me or real close, you'd get it.   Like lucking into medical services from being fairly poor and totally uninsured four years ago.  And I have dealt with the real cream of the crop, or first stringers, at least.

I a beginning to believe there is something to the idea of having lessons to learn.  But that makes absolutely no sense to me.  Why and who?   Why lessons and who is headmaster, OR HEAD MISTRESS.   [I seriously hate the aggressive ignorance which leads us to reject the notion of universal pronouns because we are too mad at our lives to get it.]

Many think they know the answers but their explanations seem unlikely, wrong, or just wacko to me. That's OK.  I'll just settle for feeling at peace.   Or at least calmly accepting of reality.

Next week will be interesting. The biopsy conclusions.  I expect the verdict to be "Ice Water in Veins".