We made the hejira to Boston yesterday. While I snooze comfortably, poor Marty has to make the weekly drive. Sometimes he gets me back though by playing show tunes, which in general, I can't stand. Guys and Dolls can be a rude awakening.
Not only was I feeling pretty good yesterday, my blood counts were cause for celebration, although they didn't appear to be. WBC =3.2; RBC =3.14; Plat=46; ANC = 2.53. This is about where my counts have been hovering the nearly 3 months post-transplant. I've been producing no new RBC's at all, relying on transfusions to keep me afloat.
I was surprised then when my doctor said maybe my transfusion days were over. My reaction: are you a magician? No, I have 30 years of experience. We had a good laugh over it. Turns out a measure of reticulocytes (who knows from those?) indicates when production is finally ready to begin. I'm there.
I walked out of there not really caring. Although I still find plenty of this transplant business bordering on the paranormal, I'll take good results by any means necessary.