Well, don't count your platelets before they. . .
I went down to the hospital at 1000 to have a bit of blood work drawn through the port. I was home in less than an hour. This was my first real trip on my own in a few weeks. KYHillChick stayed home and napped. It was milk run. I had it it in the bag.
Just as I was pulling in the drive back home, I got a panicky call from the oncologists receptionist.
"Are you having any trouble?"
That's never a good sign.
It turns out, my platelet count was unfathomably, Victorian Royal Family, low. I'm leaving shortly for another trip down to the The Waiting Room of the Damned. When they get there they're going to give me a unit of blood.
Andy Griffith awaits.
