Well folks, the big day has come and gone (please refer to my last post), and it turns out to have been a big anti-climax.
First, I went to the podiatrist, and they DIDN’T operate on my toes, which I was expecting. For this I am very grateful, but NOT getting giant needles and construction grade wire-clippers stuck in and around your toes is far less dramatic than the opposite. Then, I go to the hospital to get my big cellular test…however three big things conspired to make this event less significant.
First, I was wrong, it was not a cellular test, but a genetic test, which actually makes sense. CML is caused by gene 9 and gene 22 getting messed up (no one knows why or how) and breaking apart, then fusing together to create a weird mutant gene that breeds cancer cells. So while I have no describable cancer cells in my blood, this test is checking to see how many CML genes there are, a.k.a the Philadelphia chromosome. At the onset of treatment, I had about 80% of my 9s and 22s fused into Philly chromes, and the bare minimum goal for one year of treatment is 30%…otherwise they’ll treat me differently. Not socially I imagine, but medically.
Second, I was wrong again; I haven’t been treated for six months; I’ve been treated for three. Whoopsie! An easy mistake. I don’t, like, keep track of time, or anything. Could be the fifth century B.C.E for all I know…if I even understood what “century” means.
Finally, the genetic testing takes two weeks to process, so major dud on dramatic information today. I did get my blood tested, and my whites are staying solid at 5.5, my reds are only slightly lower than normal, but my platelets are still very low. Oh well, I’ll have to be a bleeder for a little while longer. By the way, don’t you love how I waited until 300+ words into the post to get to the hard hitting facts? Made yall read that other nonsense!
In other news, I’ve been working on a new short cartoon. I won’t give anything away, but it’s called Embarrassing Moments For Frogs, and it should be done in a week or so.
The red circles are just an animation tool; they won’t show up in the finished product.
On another completely unrelated note (to cartoons or leukemia), I have been taking care of my aunt Stacie’s cat Seth for the past week. My aunt was supposed to come back Sunday, and I’ve been going over her place every night, because Seth is on his last legs, and if no ones there he gets lonely and pissed off and, well, cat-like. So I headed over there around eight o’ clock this evening, unlock and open the door, and immediately smell smoke. Plus there’s a light on. Now, I figure my aunt came home early, which is often the case (my aunt smokes cigarettes for the record, and doesn’t set shit on fire to create the smoke, as some may have assumed). So I say hello, but no one answers. Wanting to make sure there wasn’t some random cig smoking, light turning on robber in the apartment, or worse yet, accidentally seeing my aunt naked, I stayed in the doorway and called her cell phone. It rang in the next room, and I asked if she was home. She said yes, so I knew she wasn’t lying…actually, I don’t know why I asked where she was, because obviously I knew, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. So anyway, I tell her I’m in the doorway, and she asks, “Which doorway?” I said, “The doorway to you’re apartment,” as if there was any good reason to call her if I was in any other doorway. (“Hello? Aunt Stacie? I’m in the doorway. Which doorway? The one to Pizza Hut. Bye.”) She says hold on and come out, fully clothed (thank God). She was just really tired and forgot to call me. But it makes for a damn good story, in my opinion! Love you aunt Stacie!
Alright, that about does it for me tonight. May you all have a happy and healthy whatever-day-you-read-this-on. Goodnight!