I spent the morning at the Cancer Center. Once again, I was the only person in the waiting room who didn't live through World War II.
I know I'm always complaining about waiting for my test results, but this time I was actually able to get my blood count results back before I left. This is the test that shows the state of my red cells, white cells, and platelets. I still won't know any of my other results for a few more days. Anyway, everything is normal, but my hemoglobin is down to 11.5, which has me a little freaked out. Dr. GPO said he wasn't the least bit worried, because 11.5 is still within the "normal" range for a woman. Still, I'm on iron pills, and my hemoglobin was at 13 one year ago without any iron-pill assistance. I don't think this bodes well for the rest of my results. I think Spike is beating up on my red cells, and I don't like it.
I felt fine before I got that number; as soon as I heard "11.5", I suddenly got tired, like, "Oh, yeah, I feel the anemia kicking in now. I need to go lie down for a while."
Anyway. I'm going to be OK. Is anyone else nerdy enough to remember the episode of The Golden Girls where Dorothy battles a gambling addiction? "I'll never be cured," says Dorothy, "but I've learned that I need to take everything one day at a time."
"Oh, you have to, Dorothy," says Rose earnestly. "If you took them two at a time, you'd be constantly changing your underwear."
One day at a time: Because I can't do laundry that often.