CBCs

Today I go in for another dose of chemotherapy - if, that is, my blood cell counts are good enough to qualify me for the championship round. I didn't realize they could count blood cells that quickly; I only had it drawn yesterday and they'll know today if I'm robust enough for treatment. What I find amusing is the notion that it is somehow my fault that my white blood cell count is too low, as though I've been somehow slacking. Yeah, you got me, I was deliberately not making enough white blood cells...

I'm pleased to say, though, that most of my chemo symptoms are gone. The pain is all gone, or at least nothing that a few Tylenol can't deal with, so I've weaned myself off the Percocet entirely. This is good news. My leg continues to improve. The swollen thing under my chin continues to recede. So viewed from that perspective, my treatment has been a whopping great success thus far.

I just wish I wasn't STILL nauseated. It usually sets in around noon and it stays with me all day. It isn't always intense, though sometimes it can send me scuttling to the bathroom where I gag and retch uselessly for a few minutes. But it's always there, always, and it serves to depress my appetite, which I'm sure has something to do with potentially low blood cell counts.

My appetite is a funny thing. Certain foods appeal to me, like tomatoes, grapes, canned peaches, lean beef, soup, salad, cheese and, curiously enough, tacos. Other foods gag me with a spoon, like sausage, bacon, anything with gravy, fried chicken, anything with a cream sauce and pork. The idea of a full cup of coffee makes me retch; the idea of a half a cup of coffee appeals to me. A banana makes me uneasy; canned peaches sound infinitely comforting.

Well, we'll see what the blood cell count stakes have in store for me. I'd just as soon get the chemotherapy over and done with without any postponements or rain delays, but I'm not in charge, am I? Time to go drink apple juice and try not think about my stomach.