Dancing

Tomorrow I go for an early morning blood test. Stat. Get the results in 5 minutes. If my platelets have climbed, I simply turn around and drive home.

If they have fallen, I stay for eight hours or more in a infusion chair at the cancer center to receive a second higher dose of IVIG.

5 minutes or 8 hours?

If they are stable, not sure what will happen. Repeat the drama again in a few days?

This is not easy to plan for, mentally or even practically. Do I bring lunch and reading material? Magical thinking (The Promise and other suspect new age foolishness) would say that is inviting a problem by accepting the assumption that I will be staying. A boy scout would say it is simply being prepared. I'll be the tenderfoot boy scout.

The drive to the clinic is not a pleasant one, still full of positive affirmations, despite my skepticism of their impact, and practiced acceptances.

I have danced this dance of uncertainty before. This is not my first dance with falling platelets. I remember my past dances with ALCs and engraftment studies. I have many dances to look forward to. I may be dancing until I can no longer stand on my feet. A dance where a lab test determines my immediate reality and defines the scope of my more distant future. A lab test!

I don't like it one bit. But there are worse places to be pinned. Hey, I am still dancing after all.