I went back to the pool and had a wonderful time.

I went and got my blood drawn afterwards.

Note: Low normal for platelets is 150.

My platelets are now at 12.

That’s right – 12.

Now that doesn’t mean I have 12 platelets left in my body, it means I have 12,000 platelets per (some unit) of blood.  Still far from sufficient.

My (new) hematologist has prescribed a dose package (6 pills the first day, 5 the next day, etc.) of methylprednisolone; which has a negative interaction with a couple of the many pills I take every fucking day of my fat old lady life.  Plus, if anyone remembers from this Fall, I don’t do great with prednisone – with my body gathering up as many of the side effects as possible.

I asked the nurse to ask the doctor about these issues.  Response promised.  No response.  Because, of course.  Luckily, the pharmacist at my CVS is TERRIFIC, and he explained why the possible interactions and why the risk was worth it. 

Took my 6 pills.  They are little bitty pills.  I am a pill swallowing champion.  I put them all in my mouth. 

THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE NO COATING!!!!

GACK.  GACK.  BITTER, BITTER, BITTER GACK.

Meanwhile, due to a very long tale of woe (which I have twice tried to blog about and even I am dismayed at how long it was), my eltrombopag (the drug that helps my blood marrow push out new platelets slightly faster than my immune system can destroy them) is (finally) on its way.

My job in the meantime is to NOT BLEED.  I have a couple new, pretty spectacular bruises; but otherwise I seem to be holding the blood in where it belongs; and I promised the nurse at the hematologist’s office, I won’t be playing football for the foreseeable future (or ever).