when we last left our hero (read: me), she had intrepidly given blood in order to allow the immunologist in scenic bethesda check on her antibody production.

update: the blood came back. (ew. i mean, the report came back.) in short: my lymphocytes are good, but i am low on antibodies for the representative and collective yuckiness known as diptheria, tetanus, and pneumococcus (spelling, anyone?). this may just be because i am in need of booster shots (yay?) or because, in fact, i stink at creating antibodies. because just throwing me on IViG (read: gammaglobulin) would negate any ability to tease this info out; and since i am not currently in an acutely bad state (read: in the hospital and in danger), we are taking the time to find out.

thus, in a measure that will make my kids laugh at me (and probably make me cry), i have to go get booster shots for DT and pneumoccocus (the pneumonia stuff) next week. (i feel so young again.) then, in a few weeks, we get to repeat the blood tests and find out whether i am maintaining a good level of antibodies (yay!) or whether i continue to display crappy antibody production (boo!) if the latter, then i am potentially a candidate for gammaglobulin for eons to come, which really bites. if the former, it might just be that i am low on one of the immunoglobulins (IGa, for you trivia buffs out there), in which case, maybe, just maybe, i can join one portion of the population who are naturally low in IGa (and who, i’m sure, taste like chicken 😉 and are just quite a sickly crew. no treatment; no answers; just punt, i guess.

to boot, i also need my flu shot. my brother recommended that BC NOT do the flu mist, as the live vaccine might be dangerous to me. darn; i told her that we’d try the mist this year — last year, several nurses, a doctor, and i couldn’t pull her out from under the doctor’s desk. (i don’t think she’ll be getting the shot this year, either, huh.)

points will be deducted from anyone who makes any “shot in the arm” jokes in my presence 😉

::doing happy dance::
204, 204, my platelets are kicking ass, 204, i’m still in remission, i’m still in remission, 204, 204!

i’ve been so incredibly upset for the past week or so. i’ve been feeling a little off, and it didn’t help that i was taking an antibiotic that was probably giving me an allergic reaction. finally, i took DH’s advice and decided to move up my hematology appointment. i was a bit nervous, but it is much better to face stuff and get it over with than to sit and stew about it. or, as tom petty always sings, “the waiting is the hardest part.”

so i went. i always park around the corner of the hospital (it galls me to pay $4 every time i go there, and i don’t mind the hike, anyway). i generally am looking at the ground when i walk; i’ve been this way since high school, i think. dunno why. i don’t really think it’s a self-esteem issue as much as it is a poor posture issue. anyway, as i was walking and looking down, i found a penny, heads up. a good luck penny. these days, i take my lucky signs as i find them. and since my platelets have been on a nosedive for the past few months; and since last month, i was only 1K above normal, i needed all the luck i could get.

so the lab tech drew my blood and took my vitals and walked out. because i am such a cheery person, i was busy reading a pamphlet on a conference about all the magical things they can do with stem cells. i don’t travel in those oncological circles (mercifully), but i guess i am always a little fascinated by that stuff. when BC was born, i donated her stem cells to an NIH project. they told me that while they couldn’t guarantee i would ever get her exact stem cells, they would rustle some up for us right quick should anyone in our family ever need them. (here’s hoping we don’t.) but i liked the fact that while we were being blessed with a healthy baby, someone else out there might be blessed with a chance at some good health. (i absolutely do not get those people who plant the placenta after their child is born. what the hell do they think will happen – a placenta tree? eww. and what a waste when so many people might actually benefit from this stuff.) so i was reading and reading until the tech came in.

“got your results here.” i took the now-familiar paper from her hands. “you got some good numbers today!” she said.

i burst into tears. i hugged her. 204 rocks. i mean, super-collosal, better than fresh-air-through-your-hair-while-you-ride-a-cantering-horse-on-a-caribbean-isle-travel-commercial rocks. i was still crying when katrina, the nurse practitioner, walked in. she hadn’t seen my yellow paper yet and was worried that the shit had hit the fan. i assured her, it hadn’t. these were happy tears. this is a hematology/oncology office, so she was thrilled to have some happy tears. i bet they don’t get a lot of them in there.

our theory is that while my strep isn’t related to my platelets, perhaps my body had been weakened by fighting the strep, which, in turn, knocked my platelets around. anyway, next week, i get to see an immunologist in bethesda. that should be a kick in the ass.

but today, i feel pretty damn invincible. like play-the-lottery invincible. and nothing, and nobody, will take that away from me.

i’m superchick.

i hate cliffhangers. i really do. and i don’t like to leave people hanging. so, in deference to the two people who read this 😉 (and i know you’re out there somewhere, as i can see statistics on the left-hand-side that shows that someone is out there besides the usual suspects), here’s the continued joy that is my life.

1) DH just came home from work sick. hello, single parenthood.

2) Apparently, i have strep based on a culture from the Dr’s office.

3) oh. remember that little phone call i missed yesterday? the one that caused me to cry, whine, and eat massive quantities of guittards milk chocolate chips, throwing caution to the wind and weight watchers points out the window? well, i was right. that lovely nurse practitioner was calling not to tell me that she loved me but that two of my three immunoglobulins are low. as my brothuh-the-doctuh points out, 1/3 of the population is low in one of them (IGA), and the other one (IGG) is low but not as low as his was, making a comparison of his condition not quite appropriate with mine). one (IGM) is normal — hey, that’s a positive!

yep, it’s a hap-hap-happy day around here. i’ll be visiting an immunologist in bethesda who specializes in autoimmune diseases on oct. 12. it was nice that the receptionist really tried to fit me in as quickly as she could, though parking is apparently a nightmare there (as she tells me). i can hardly wait. oh well. as long as i get home in time to pick up the wee bairn…

so, what’s a girl to do? well, tomorrow is jools’ last day at his old beloved school, so i am baking homemade chocolate chip cookies and making a CD of his greatest hits to give to all of his teachers.

here’s hoping i actually spare some of that cookie dough.

today was a wednesday morning when i make myself scarce because the cleaning ladies are here and i don’t like to get in their way. i spent some more time on my laptop, looking at potential places to take a vacation. i’d like to go away somewhere — anywhere — where i don’t have to cook, don’t have to clean, don’t have to focus on anything but having fun with my family. i haven’t been to jamaica in nearly 10 years. i haven’t been to london in nearly 10 years. i haven’t been too many places since having children. i don’t regret that, of course, but i think they are getting to ages where they might enjoy being in different places, too. of course, all of these pipe dreams cost money. (what’s powerball at today?)

so i came home from my temporary exile. i saw a cleaning lady — i didn’t see any others — so i grabbed my laptop and headed for BC’s room, where i worked on my novel some more. when the lady left at 11:30, i came out and headed for the answering machine. one message was from the nurse practitioner at the hematologist’s office.

now, this lady is a wonderful, wonderful lady. she saw me at my bitchy, cranky, sickliest worst, and still, she is so sweet to me.  but she only calls when blood tests come back and something is off. like the time when she called to tell me that i was rather iron-poor, and perhaps we ought to check into that a little.

now, i know that this month, my doctor sent my blood away (a weird image, i know) to a place to check on my immunoglobulins. see, he is trying to figure out whether perhaps a virus has something to do with this idiopathic condition i seem to be fighting. my platelets are on the downward trend (i’m only 1k above normal now. i suspect i will be subnormal always, which isn’t so bad. i think in many parts of my life, i am probably subnormal, LOL), and we’re still trying to figure out whether we can discern a cause for all of this mess. i guess i suspected that nothing remarkable would come back, news-wise, and i would go for my monthly doctor’s visit to find that there’s nothing interesting about my blood, virally-speaking.  but i missed the NP’s call. she doesn’t usually call unless something is awry. and now she is gone for the rest of the day.

i guess you could say i am going to stew on this for the rest of the day and night.

i mean, maybe i ought not to think ahead about planning any stupid vacations. i may be in the fucking hospital by the time a vacation would creep up, and then i’d disappoint everyone. i suppose they could go without me, but a) i don’t think the kids would do that voluntarily, and b) that would be too much of a burden for BS.

yesterday, while waiting to pick up BC at school, i met a woman and her four year old son. next week, he starts chemo for brain cancer. boy, i’ve got nothing to cry about in comparison.

i really ought to stop feeling sorry for myself. really. i’m just so frustrated by something that defies explanation. i’m a big cause and effect kind of person. i see a problem: i like to solve it and move on. but there are no answers at present, and there may never be answers.

i’m just so damn mad.

ok.

last week, i had a terrible head cold. i was barely functional. but i had to bring my kids to school, regardless of my health status. i was standing on line, barely conscious, when my friend richard – wow a friend with a URL! came along. his daughter attends the same school as BC. all he did was say, “how are you feeling?”

knee-jerk response that flew out of my mouth: “i feel like shit.” i turn around to see BC’s second-grade teacher make a sour face at me. uh oh. i’m in trouble. i asked richard if i was really loud, as i am not really sure i can hear so well, being stuffed up and all. he replied it was no big deal. but later, when i spoke with BC’s teacher about another matter, she made a weird face at me.

so i resolved to not become known as the potty-mouth mom from hell.

only, i didn’t count on a transformer blowing out the power while i was in the front office today. see, the secretary had just asked me what i needed, and as i opened my mouth to speak, a huge boom erupted and knocked all the power out. out came the principal, the vice-principal, and everyone and their dog. one of the PE teachers came running in and said she had seen sparks on the pole outside one of the teacher’s homes and lines down. i had the sudden realization that i had parked exactly under that pole.

“crap!” i blurted. the principal gave me a look. i apologized, but she didn’t seem to hear me.

thank goodness we have a “do as i say, not as i do” sort of parenting style around here. BC tries to coach me on not cursing. she has instructed me to call people “donkey drivers” instead of alternate animal names. but it hasn’t caught on yet.

it’s hard to break old %#^$^^%$^@ habits.

i continue to read the back-and-forth on local womens’ birth experiences at a variety of local hospitals. for every person who has had a positive experience at hospital A, there is someone who has apparently had a near-death experience there. while it is safe to say that there are certain hospitals i would avoid, either due to inconvenient locale or political policies which i oppose (i read somewhere that a local catholic hospital refuses to terminate pregnancies, regardless of the circumstances, which (of course) is its right but not something i would want to support), in general, if you are having a baby, you will need some sort of help. as one who spent two weeks getting treated for a freakish illness recently, i can tell you that there are worse places to be than in a hospital.

while i appreciate the whole birth movement and respect women’s decisions to use midwives, or have babies underwater, or experience the blessed event while skydiving (ok, so i made that last one up), i often wonder about women who obsess over the whole birth planning process. they make lists about what interventions they will or will not accept; they take classes on how to give birth and hypnotise themselves into a calm state; they psyche themselves into planning the perfect birth. they are usually first-time moms-to-be. (these are probably the same women who spent forever planning the perfect wedding.)

you really can’t plan the birth. sure, those women who plan a birth that happens perfectly, trouble-free, they’ll think they made it happen that way. but honestly, they merely lucked out. the truth is that birth is messy, scary, excruciating, and wonderful, all at once. and you really cannot predict how it will all go until the baby comes out and cries and passes his apgar screen and all is (hopefully) well. i cringe when i hear a mom tell me how depressed she is because, after all this planning, she had a c-section, as if somehow, she failed in the big birthing competition. what is wrong with a c-section, i wonder, if that is what you needed to keep yourself and your child alive? (and don’t even get me started on how i feel about the term natural childbirth.)

suffice it to say that these same women who try to plan their birthing experiences down to the last second will be very distressed to discover that they cannot plan their child’s life down to the second.