It’s blood test time. Time to take our list of questions to the doc, the list of ‘is this worth telling them about or not?’ Husband’s skin has been very sensitive, as it was when the lymphoma was active, although it’s better than it was. He can walk and swim a good distance if he doesn’t go too quickly but if he has to run even 50 metres he gets a bit breathless.
He often feels a bit breathless, but then we both do! It’s as if we forget to breathe, to exhale. If we didn’t know that he has lymphoma we wouldn’t be concerned.
At the hospital we exchange pleasantries with people we don’t know but with whom we feel an odd sort of kinship. Then it’s time to go in to one of those teeny consulting rooms. To get the results.
The red cells are down again. That’s a blow. Red cells were 135 last time and are now at 123. I can’t help but remember the doc’s comment last time, “It it drops to 120 that’s significant”… At 123 we’re definitely nudging significant.
Dr Inscrutable explains the numbers as a “slight decline”, insists we shouldn’t worry, that the drop could have been caused by the nosebleeds “so get that sorted”. He reassures us, “The haemo could go up, platelets and neutrophils are normal. There’s no need to do anything at this point, we’ll just see you a bit earlier – 2 months.”
So we have 2 months. Time to go away for a few days. Time to breathe.
Except we don’t. Husband comes in as I’m packing. “The consultant’s secretary just rang and said he wants to see us tomorrow.”