Following up on yesterday’s spotty confession, I had a blood test today and had a platelet count of 10.* This means that I am officially on rest orders.
It also means that I am officially sad. I mean, I’m used to my counts being low, but 10 is lower than low. Ten is a dangerously low number that reminds me of the constant risk I face since I don’t always know what my counts are from one day to the next. Ten is a number that reminds me that no matter how well I feel, my body is constantly fighting a war with itself.
In the old days Paul and I would have commiserated together. Just as we would have celebrated a count of 80+. (A normal count is 150-400.) It’s not that I want to throw myself a pity party or anything, but sometimes it feels good to rant and cry and complain about it to someone who sort of understands.
Oh well. I guess I’ll just think about the good things about having a dangerously low platelet count:
- It’s a great excuse to make my guests do all the work when I have a house full of people over for Burns’ Supper in a week’s time
- It’s a great excuse for not beating my 11-year-old nephews in the Freeze Your Fanny 5K (because you know I’d kick their fannies otherwise!)
- It’s a great excuse to sit on the couch eating junk food for the up-coming three-day weekend (that’s following rest orders, right?)
And, of course, because there were so few platelets I was able to draw a picture of them for you. I stopped short of naming them, but please feel free to offer name suggestions if you feel so inclined.
* Counts are actually in the 1,000s so a count of 10 = 10,000, meaning the normal range is 150,000–400,000.