Free! (Round up)

That is right.  After 13 days or so, I got out of the hospital yesterday.  As much as I love my nursing staff, and appreciate my treating doctors, it is quite nice to be, at the house, with my family. Staying in the hospital presents several challenges, that require preparation, both mentally and physically.  I'll save you most of the details, but it's definitely not for everyone.  When I say that, I really mean that things like boredom, attitude, and lack of perspective, can drag a person down quickly.  Personally, I haven't met the inside of a hospital that could hold me.  I flexed and busted out of there.  It's definitely not the first time I've had to flex and bust out of somewhere, but it was probably the scariest for them.  I can't imagine they've seen someone, so sick, with muscles that ripple so hard, the nurses thought they were watching a Jurassic Park replay on cable.

People have been asking me if I've selected a treatment, and if so, what's the prognosis.  I still don't have an answer for you yet.  I'm currently undergoing a pill regimen of Cyclosporine, an immunosuppressive drug, designed to help suppress my immune system, so my bone marrow can produce enough blood cells to correct my anemia.  This medicine requires 6-7 weeks for maximum benefit. I'm now at week 5.  I wasn't sure that this pill regimen really constituted a treatment, but I've spent enough time in the hospital, more time in patient than my previous regimen of chemotherapy, to say this definitely constitutes a treatment.  My Doctors, here in Dallas, are not very enthusiastic about this pill regimen, while my specialist, at Johns Hopkins, seriously believes these pills will help my numbers rebound.  Specifically, because they've seen issues, with white blood cell production, surface as a result of viral infections.  I've had the influenza and another viral infection since I've returned to Texas.  At the new year, I had 800 ANC (i.e., I had 800 white blood cells that are worth a plug nickel).  By the time I was hospitalized, for the flu, 4 days later, I was at around 250-300.  By Valentines day, I had 30 (ANC).

Obviously, watching my ANC, white blood cell count, swan dive from a semi-respectable 800, 1000+ is considered normal, to 30 was a bit disconcerting and worrisome.  However, I've had lower numbers, and it's all about perspective.  I spent 3 whole weeks with 0 at one point.  While it's still too early to tell, I noticed that on the 15th, I was up to 40 (ANC); On the 16th, I hit 70 (ANC); and on the 17th, I hit 100 (ANC).  Additionally, my red blood cells went up, a little bit, as well as my overall white blood cell count.  I get my numbers checked again on Friday, and I'm really excited to see if the upward trend continues.

As far as my feelings go, it's difficult to remain even keel.  I'm prepping for a long difficult road to recovery, so it's been hard to allow myself to believe that I could potentially recover, by taking a pill, when the next level of treatment is so much more intensive.  I'm of the mind that this is a classic prepare for the worst and hope for the best scenario.  If you have any feedback/suggestions, leave a comment, or send an e-mail.

Newish Music

I put together this playlist, because I'm just loving some of these tracks right now.  Most of it isn't Trap music, and some of the lyrics are NSFW, so I suggest you plug in your headphones.

Bangers New & Old from huhehat510 on 8tracks Radio.

Welcome Back

I'm not sure of you how many know this, but I don't have a functional immune system. If I have a fever that reaches 100.6, it's what is referred to as a "medical emergency," and I'm required to go to the hospital.  When I go to the hospital, I'm normally there for at least 8 days:  2 days to get the fever down and 6+ days to figure out what it is, so they can prescribe me the correct medicine.  Since I don't have the ability to fight off anything on my own, everything is on the table.  Weird bacteria, strange viruses, and worst yet, common molds.  Every fever related admission to the hospital is russian roulette.

It's Super Bowl Sunday, and I wake up with a fever of 100.6.  Bullshit.  Fever be damned.  I'm watching this game.  I'm glad, for all my 49'er and Bronco fan friends, at least you're not Cowboy fans.  So the game's over and this fever isn't going away.  Fuck!  With each fever, comes the inevitable, personal, tug of war between my ego and the acknowledgement of my, very real, vulnerability.  I never want to acknowledge my vulnerability.  I've always had issues with being vulnerable, and by extension, sharing any perceived weakness.  I've always seen myself as a grounded, strong individual.  I take pride in carrying people's weight, problems, issues, and providing sage advice. I have an unwavering confidence that I have all the resources, at my disposal, to come out of this, on the other side, relatively unscathed, having learned even more lessons of life and having gained more perspective.  

Something I have noticed, is that while I don't doubt this, I've been experiencing some issues relating to people projecting doubt, upon me, as if a relapse is some unscalable wall.  I'm going to let you in on a little secret.  This is just a hurdle. Life's easy and it's great, until it's hard and, at times, arduous.  This is just something I've always treated as fact, and I don't sit around and worry about the unknown.  As someone who's had previous issues with depression, I've learned that's not where you want to go.  Besides, where's the utility in that?  I feel as though the worrying is often times much worse than the actual things we must endure.  So I'd ask that you all don't worry about me, don't doubt me, and don't pity me.  Just believe in me, and I'll take care of the rest.  

Relapse??!!!

Hey Friends and Chosen Family,

It's been in a while since I had any news worth sharing, but I recently found out that I am in the process of experiencing a relapse of Aplastic Anemia. Admittedly, it sounds absolutely horrible, and I'd wish it on no one, but there's a strange comfort associated with this for me. There are more pleasant experiences out there, however life's hardships often provide us with the most perspective. I'd liken it to taking a really life changing trip somewhere, only if the trip involved you fighting for your life, and spending way too much time dicking around on a kindle fire.

What does this mean?
Basically, it means that I'm dependent on transfusions, for the short term, until I can select a treatment that will allow me to create enough of my own blood cells to sustain a body that could only be compared to a young Rick Flair.

Is the treatment dangerous?
In a sense, yes the treatment is dangerous, but it's nothing compared to choosing not to treat the affliction. Also, if you've ever seen me, shirtless, during "pool season", you'd know that dangerous is a relative term. Have you ever seen a diamond cut in half by someone's abdominal muscles? I have. Shit tons of times, and let me tell you something... it's dangerous as shit.

What can you do? 
As you've probably read, in previous posts, this affliction is more an issue of avoiding germs, avoiding being sick, and waiting. If you'd like to help out, text me, e-mail me, and Facebook me up. I have a bunch of time on my hands, I'm fairly isolated, and I love stories. Confide, Share, Be a Pen Pal, and Allow me to live vicariously through you. You'd be surprised how much I can hold, then again, maybe you wouldn't. Regardless, that sense of connection is very important to me, so if you're reading this, you're already in, and that's all I really require.