Every Tuesday and Friday I have the distinct pleasure of heading to the Dr's office to have blood drawn. Since I have the PICC line it's really not that bad. Kyler comes with me and he gets a sticker and then we head to McDonald's for some breakfast.
The scary part of all of it is getting the results. I, of course, hope and pray that my white blood cells, red blood cells, hemoglobin, platelets, etc are going up, but unfortunately that is not always the case. As was today.
Tuesday my hemoglobin was 8.46, under an eight I have to have a blood transfusion. Today my count was 8.01. My argument was it's still not under an 8. However, since it's so close I lost. So, here I sit, waiting to have someone else's blood put into my body. The thought sort of freaks me out. It's not supposed to be painful, and supposedly I will feel better afterwards. But seriously, someone else's blood? But, what can I do? Nothing. Like always, I can do nothing. Most of you know, I am a control freak. Having no control over pretty much everything in my life totally sucks. Once I kick cancer's ass, look out, because I am going to control the world! I think I deserve it, right?
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