Second post...but don't get all excited

I still reserve the right to completely flake out at any time.

My last 2 days have been packed, I mean wall to wall packed with appointments between about 10 or 11 and 4. Which isn't really that bad since I'm home early, but is exhausting considering they cram 5 or 6 appointments in each day. Pulmonary function test, EKG, blood draws, financial consults... Yesterday's highlight was the "Why the F- would anyone do this" conference, otherwise known as the Informed Consent conference. This is where the good doctor goes over your treatment plan and cheerily lists off every possible side effect of the whole procedure, about 80% of which "could be fatal! That is, unless you're lucky enough to simply have a chronic condition the rest of your life!" And I'm like, "Sounds fantastic! Where do I sign?" That's the way it goes when you have no. other. treatment. choice. and a fatal disease that will most certainly come back in a few months with no treatment at all. So I don't really need the "WTFWADT" conference. All it does is freak me out, and anyway, what could they possibly tell me that would make me change my mind? Only that they planned on surgically removing each bone individually, replacing the marrow with a butter knife, and then surgically re-implanting it. And even then I'd be like, "Let me have another look at those forms..."

SO...back to back to back appointments and we are practically running between them. And everyone is completely efficient and on time and let me tell you I am totally annoyed by the well-oiled machinery of this place!  No time to read my book, the newspaper, play with my phone, or even gaze blankly out at Lake Union for Pete's sake. And if you are early, they're like, "Hey, I bet we can get you in early!" And they can!  The waiting room on the Transplant Floor is this semi-circle of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Union from the 6th floor. And they have these cushy reclining chairs right at the windows facing the view so you can leisurely watch the seaplanes land on the lake. Or nap. Have I been able to partake of this luxury? Hardly.

Today's highlight was my bone marrow biopsy (you can Google the procedure if you want; this one they only took a sample of the fluid from my marrow, so technically it is a bone marrow aspirate.  This was my 6th one of these.  You can count them by the scars on my back below my bird tattoo).  The biopsy is important, as it's the only way to determine how much leukemia I have in my marrow.  For some people, chemotherapy gets them down to none, no detectable leukemia cells.  For me, they've gotten me down to very few, but I've always had some...between 4 and 2% abnormal cells.  Now, they still consider this remission (anything less than 5%), but I have no idea why anyone is comfortable with it.  I feel as though if there are a few, they could easily shoot up to 58% tomorrow and then where would we be?  Back to new and exciting kinds of chemo and a delayed transplant, that's where.  The doctors don't act that way though, and I suppose that I am expected to go along with them.  Anyway, we should get those results on Monday, so I'll be a little worried until then.  Also, any typos you see here are from the Fentanyl lollipop I had before the biopsy. 

Today I also had a MUGA, a heart test which is not very exciting except that I get a card afterward indicating that I will be radioactive for 3 days, and I am to show this card if I board any airplanes or ferries.  How embarrassing. 

Also, Luna and Jo arrived yesterday!  Now we can see how dysfunctional this "suite" really is.  We all have to go to sleep when Luna does and get up when she does.  We eat on the floor.  I like to pretend it's tribal and it makes it kind of fun.  Except for the Luna-sized mini fridge that she likes to open and close and open and close and open and close and open and close and open and close and oh my Lord we need to get into that apartment already.

Love to all, xoxo!

~jessie