MDS: Up for the Count

Yesterday's counts:

Platelets: 139,000
Hemoglobin: 12.6

I think I'm finally getting it. The counts go highest when I feel the worst—as the end of the shots cycle approaches. After that, they descend for a couple of weeks, then ascend for a couple of weeks.

Yes, it's true. It has taken me quite a while to figure this pattern out. But, as the mystery and thriller writers often remind us: things are best hidden in plain sight.

So, here I am:

• arms itching/hurting like crazy
• fatigue engulfing me
• legs still breaking out in mysterious bug-bite-ish bumps
• stomach in flux from liberally mixing Zofran and Metamucil
• my sweet tooth run amuck, as often happens when I feel poorly

and I'm showing some of the best counts since this all started.

Good thing I know I'll feel much better in a day or two. Otherwise this high-count/feeling-lousy phenomenon might be discomfiting.

Uh-huh.

MDS: A Dog's Life?

So, yesterday, feeling miserable and useless as I usually do on Shots Week Saturdays, I'm flipping channels among college football games, when I happen upon a promo or short featurette.

At first, I can't figure out what it is.

It's a hospital setting, and there's a doctor who's saying " . . . he's undergoing a bone marrow transplant with his own stem cells that we harvested from his blood yesterday . . . He'll be here in the hospital for three weeks, and then hopefully will go home to live a full life."

I can't figure out what I'm looking at. The patient is . . .

. . . a dog. A chocolate Lab, to be more specific. A dog suffering lymphoma.

This, it turns out, is a promo for North Carolina State University's vet school.

Just goes to show: even for we potential bone marrow transplants, it can be a dog's life.

I wonder, could the NC State vets can take on my case?

I wonder, was the dog's recovery set back some because NC State lost to Duke by 21?

Well, it's Friday of Vidaza Shots Week (VSW), and I'm holding up surprisingly well. I only collapse with body aches and fatigue after lunch. Work gets done in the morning.

This contrasts starkly with the last VSW in which I felt like crap already on Monday.

And, ingesting nine Metamucil capsules per day (up from two/day during non-shots weeks) seems to be keeping my bowels in order, countermanding the Zofran anti-nausea meds.

Not that the Complaint Department has closed, mind you.

• The shots sites hurt/itch like crazy
• random itching pervades my body
• the stitches on my leg have begun to itch
• the only sports commentary I get on the car radio whilst driving to/from Dr. O's is about the damned Yankees instead of the important news about football.

Yes—the Complaint Department is always open.

Still, here we are, more than halfway through the shots ordeal, and I'm showing more energy than during any other shots week.

A good thing.

MDS & Flu: To Shoot or Not to Shoot

On Monday, I forgot one question I had aimed to ask Dr. O—Can flu shot(s) be done by her, and when?

Yesterday, I remembered to ask.

Her short answers were:

• Yes.
• I don't know.

Apparently the vaccines haven't reached her office yet.

She recommended I contact Dr. Primary's office to see if they have the vaccines. But, she cautioned not to actually receive the shots whilst amidst this Vidaza shots cycle.

It seems fairly common knowledge that the distribution of the H1N1 vaccine has caused confusion. That situation was illustrated just yesterday in a NY Times article Swine Flu Vaccine Reaches an Anxious Nation. Questions revolve around

• For how many people is there enough vaccine?
• Who gets priority?

Among those who do get priority are "children and chronically ill adults." Dr. O proudly assured me that I qualify as a chronically ill adult.

So, there you have it: Chronically Ill Adult. Another title or identification I've achieved, along with such hard-earned laurels as High School Graduate, Bachelor of Arts, Master of Fine Arts, Author, Published Photographer, Expert Skier, Husband, Father and Former House Painter and Moving Man.

Attaining this designation makes me feel so special. It engenders a sense of pride, accomplishment and success that simply cannot be imagined by mere healthy mortals. Thanks be to my crippled chromosomes, for it is they that now permit me to jump to the head of the line. I rank among the privileged. And, for that, I will be permitted to accept yet another needle.

Oh the joy to be so special.
Oh the pride imbued in rating VIP service.
Oh the thrill of getting yet more holes punched into my arms.

I nodded, and told Dr. O I'd contact Dr. P's office immediately.

I promptly went home and forgot to make the call.

MDS: Good Blood Count plus Questions Answered & Not

Yesterday's blood counts:

• Platelets: 119,000
• Hemoglobin: forgot to ask . . .

. . . or I didn't hear Dr. O when she said it.

I was too busy trying to remember all the questions I intended to ask.

Like?

• Did the thyroid function test results come back? (Answer: no; have to do that over again.)
• When she said the frequency of Vidaza shots could be decreased, did she mean after nine or 10 months total or in nine or 10 months? (Answer: nine or 10 months total; that's good.)
• Can shots be skipped in January, when I've two major trips scheduled nearly back-to-back? (Answer: we can be flexible.)
• Can flu shot(s) be done by her, and when? (Answer: none; despite my concerted effort to remember all the questions, I couldn't remember that one. Must ask today.)

So many questions. So little brain power.

A note about the thyroid: back in the first or second entry of this blog ("Backstory") it was noted that his entire adventure began with a pre-surgery MRI of my shoulder in which an unexplained "anomaly" appeared in the humerus bone. That led to scans of all kinds which, along the way, turned up hypothyroidism. That must be monitored every six months. I figured it could be done from Dr. O's office, since she's taking blood from me all the time. It can. But, the sample sent to the lab two weeks ago traveled with the wrong instructions. Thus, the do-over yesterday.

Still, the big picture continues to look pretty good. Getting that platelet count over 100,000 provides a huge psychological boost me for. Its carries a sub-text of "now you can do anything you can do"—ride your bike, knock your head against the wall, ski, eat your heart out, run, fall down the stairs, whatever.

And, I guess I've earned my certificate as a professional needle recipient. Four of them yesterday:

• finger prick for blood counts
• two for Vidaza
• one for thyroid.

Don't tell me I don't live an exotic and rewarding life.

No MDS News Today

No MDS news today. Bruce news only.

Bruce Springsteen, that is.

I've long said that we ski/travel writers are often treated not like VIP's, but like IP's, which is good enough for me. Apparently, carrying a press card, or knowing some folks because of the press card, can yield benefits in unrelated realms.

So, it came to pass that Penny and I not only got comp tickets to the Springsteen concert at Giants Stadium on Saturday, but were guests in one of the corporate suites. (The kind of which the Giants and Jets feel they have way too few, thus "forcing" them to build a new stadium, poor dears.)

I will not lie. It's nice to be spoiled once in a while, to live with the other half for a few hours.

The suite was ready for us with cuisine ranging from sushi and chicken Marsala to hoagies and hot dogs, and a fully-stocked bar. The 50-yard-line view was excellent.

The performance? Stupefying. I'd pay dearly to have one-tenth of that guy's energy.

But, the big question was: can MDSMitch stay awake for such an event?

No problem.

MDSMitch made it to the end. We got home at midnight-thirty. It took a while to fall asleep, and less than five hours of sleep ensued, so yesterday was pretty tired (notwithstanding the nervous energy generated by the football Giants' game).

But, hey—I'm a Jersey boy born and bred. And every Jersey boy should see Bruce live at least once in his life, yes?

And, anyway, this week is a Vidaza Shots Week (VDW), and the fatigue will be setting in, anyhow—so, so what if we gave it an extra day's head start?

I may have reached a stage where I'm no longer "Born to Run," but rather am born to sleep, but—hell—it was worth it.

Now, it's off to make like a pin cushion.

MDS: On Dermatology & Oreo Cookies

Well, now we can add Dr. Derma to the list of docs participating in this medical adventure.

As I expected, she looked at my legs with puzzlement, and she'd never heard of Vidaza, no less whether these bumps on my legs are a Vidaza side-effect. No surprises there.

"Which is the newest one?" she asked, poking at the purpled-bluish protuberance on my right shin.

"I don't really know. I just noticed these two big ones last week."

"Which is the newest one?" she repeated.

"I don't know," I repeated. "I just noticed these two big ones last week."

Pause.

"So probably they're the newest ones."

"It's right on the bone," she declared.

"Yes it is."

She was reluctant, I guess, to start poking holes where there was no so little flesh, muscle or fat to cushion the incision.

She had no choice.

She flattened out her power chair, causing me to lie back. I didn't like that. I'd've preferred sitting up and watching the action.

But, stab away she did with the novocaine needle, then poking with whatever poking implement she used to extract the biopsy-able substance from within. Then, she began to sew.

Stitches? Now I've gotta deal have stitches?

Come back in three weeks, I was told. Replace the dressing after you shower. Keep your leg up. No running on treadmill for a week. Results in about two weeks.

"I'm not going to treat these," Dr. Derma said, staring at my leg, "because I don't know what they are."

Sounded logical to me. I don't know what they are, either.

But, no running for a week just adds a new level of disquiet. Next week's a Vidaza Shots Week (VSW), anyway, so I'd probably not be running anyhow. But, losing these two or three days will just make me that much fatter and more out of shape. Because you know that the inactivity will cause me to eat.

Oh well. Being the good patient that I am, I'll keep my leg elevated whilst I eat extra Oreo double-stuff vanilla cookies. Boy, those things are good.