On the Fridays that I don't receive chemotherapy, I still have to hightail it to the cancer center for a blood draw. My CBC (complete blood count) is monitored closely to be sure that I am not getting into a dangerous range. Primarily, my oncologist is looking at my white count, which if too low, increases my susceptibility to infection. If my white count drops below a certain level, she may place me on prophylactic antibiotics and/or recommend avoiding public areas (grocery stores, restaurants, etc.) Because this number is ever-changing, I am always advised to avoid any sick contacts, sushi, sprouts & other foods as well as potlucks (where you don't know how the food is prepped, cooked or how long it's been out).
Unlike most Fridays, when I opened the door to the cancer center this week, the waiting room was packed. It was so full that they directed patients and accompanying family members to the coffee shop area just outside their doors. Chris would have been thrilled (he hates coffee) if he had accompanied me, but he didn't today, since it was just for a quick blood draw. Glancing around the room, I chose to stand in the crowded waiting area, since I appeared to be the youngest and healthiest person present.
No more than ten minutes later, I was summoned for my blood draw. The polite phlebotomist obviously knew me only as a patient needing a CBC. As she asked for my name and birth date, to verify that she indeed procured the correct patient, I inquired about the wait time for results and to determine exactly what tests were being drawn today. She reported the typical 30-60 minute wait, to allow the oncologist to review the results (they can't release results without them being seen by a physician first). After explaining that I am a physician and capable of reading my own results, she hesitantly received permission to deliver the results directly to me, so that I could leave immediately after the blood was analyzed (typically about 10 minutes since only a CBC was being drawn).
I happily waited by the coffee shop, inhaling the invigorating aroma, wanting for another cup of that silky, uplifting Seattle manna. While waiting, my phone rang, It was my mother-in-law describing the beautiful, snowy, but warm conditions at their cabin, where we would head to later, after Peter and Kim wrapped up with school and work. The call was a wonderful distraction from the wait and shortly after pushing the end button on my phone, the phlebotomist returned with my printed results in hand.
The CBC results were reassuring. My neutrophil count increased from 600 to 1700 (normal is 2000 - 7000), which made me ecstatic as I enter a weekend filled with family gatherings. I'll still be cautious to avoid large, public settings and my mask and hand sanitizer will be handy when necessary (i.e. church). However, paranoia is replaced by elation as this bodes well for remaining on schedule for my next infusion on Friday the 12th. While my oncologist, who called me a few hours later, was a little more cautious, as she sees signs in my monophils, that my counts will be dropping further, I still couldn't help but be happy, since I know things could be much worse. Hurray for the simple joys and satisfactions!
Simple pleasures are life's treasures.
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