My last chemo treatment didn't go the way I thought it would. Nov. 6 started off a bit different, as I had gotten permission to drive myself to and from treatment that day. I was in a super great mood. I just knew my counts were going to be up. I was chatting it up with my blood nurse, as he tried to put in a port. I should have known something was up, when putting a port in became a 15 minute affair. I learned that 3 of my veins in my left arm have scar tissue and won't be able to give blood any more.
But the fight to get the port in didn't damper my spirits. I joked with the nurses about how this would be my last treatment ever, how they would miss me, and the such. I knew the counts would be high. I had visualized Meredith, my chemo nurse, coming over to tell me. I would have a huge smile on my face, my eyes would twinkle, which they hadn't done for a while, and my face would flush with excitement. I had played this moment out in my mind multiple times.
So while situated in my chemo chair, I was like an actress waiting for her big cue, as I saw Meredith walking over with my count sheet. I could barely contain my smile, as I watched her lips start to move. Then all I could hear was my own breathing. I was looking at Meredith's face. Why wasn't it as excited as I had visualized? Why wasn't I acting out the practiced scene? For some reason my brain hadn't hit the cue like it was suppose to.
I asked Meredith to repeat what the counts were again. As my heart fell out of my chest, my brain registered why it wasn't in a celebratory mood. Not only had my counts not gone up, they had actually dropped. This wasn't possible. My mantra for life is "success is the only option, failure is not". Why wasn't this a success? I hadn't visualized anything other than my counts reaching huge numbers, just like last time. It was going to work. I didn't have a plan in place for my counts not going up.
After I picked my heart up from the floor, I remembered I was in a large room filled with many others receiving chemo. I would not cry in front of them. I swallowed hard, and asked Meredith to get my next order from the doctor.
The rest of treatment was uneventful. I normally try to stay up and chat with those around me, but I just gave into the pre-cocktail, and slept most of the 6 hours. I didn't feel like talking to anyone. Especially not anyone who was receiving good news. I was in a full blown pity party, and pretty angry no one had brought balloons.
This past week has brought on many old ITP symptoms I had almost forgotten existed. First the bruises started showing up. Platelets are made in bone marrow. The first place to bruise is my joints. Large, purple bruises began in my knee pits, then I found some on my hips, and my elbows. Then the bleeding. THIS MIGHT GET GROSS, you have been warned. I started bleeding out of every open hole on my body. The nose bleeds were the hardest to hide. While teaching I went to help a student with a math problem, only to see blood show up on their worksheet. Try calming 24, 8 year-olds, while bleeding yourself. Not an easy task. My ears bleed a bit, and then capillaries exploded in my eyes. Exhaustion took over. Teaching all day, just to come home, and have more papers to grade, and lessons to write, left me with little energy left, which had to be given to Cade. Nausea became a constant, and the migraines started back.
So there are two things that might be going on with my body.
Scenario #1: My counts are actually in normal low range. That means I have enough platelets to actually bruise (when I am low I don't even bruise, only internally bleed). I also do not get bleeding when I a super low, so my counts might actually have gone up in the past week. Only my body still thinks it is low, and so it is reacting to low platelets.
Scenario #2: My counts are much lower than we have been in years. Causing all the symptoms of low platelets.
So I will get an official count tomorrow. I am unsure what the magic number is, and if I am close or not. I am unsure what to even visualize. My heart has been hanging low, along with my attitude. I try to hold it together, but the thought of my sick body makes me hurt inside. I am so beyond ready to be healthy. I am ready for the doctor to tell me I hit the target! I am ready for my counts to level out, and allow me to work on getting my health back full force.
Success is the only option, failure is not
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