Type A

It's finally happened: my blood type now matches my personality type, A. You've figured that out by now. Sure, living for six years in tropical paradise knocked me down to a B, but I lurched back into the A range within a year or so of returning to the US. Nothing is of course immutable, but I was pretty sure about blood type. Now, I match my kids. Can you imagine what living here is like?

On Wednesday, we drove up to Boston in a snowstorm. It took us three hours to get there, double what it usually takes. We didn't see my doctor until 1pm, and when he told me I needed red blood cells, I figured we'd be at the clinic until 7. He gave me the option of having a transfusion in Rhode Island, which seemed more reasonable. We didn't get back to our house until 4 as it was. Now I know what shortness of breath feels like.

Bright and early on Thursday, we headed up to Memorial Hospital where my local oncologist is head of the Cancer Center. They crossed and typed my blood, and Marty and I went out for breakfast since it takes a couple of hours to get the blood ready. We went to a nearby diner, which was quite a Rhode Island experience. It deserves its own post, so you'll have to wait for the story.

Back at the hospital's infusion lab, I was told my blood type had switched over from O to A. My blood arrived, and I spent the next 5 hours knitting, dozing, reading, watching my soaps and chatting with Marty. Tanked up, we left around 4, another long day devoted to transplant fallout.

I'm happy to report that the vampire in me is fully sated. I'm re-energized, breathing normally, and can now cultivate my A personality to its fullest and sickest.