(In my best Rod Serling voice) Imagine if you will, taking 3 days to regain strength after a weekend transfusion. Try! Nah, maybe you can't. Wish I couldn't.
"You're in deep trouble now." Sounds like a parent scolding a small child.
"Your BC is way down again - 7.3." It has been lower and this sounds like I am to blame.
"You are now dealing with a life & death scenario." This would be L & D part 2 since August. and it's all my fault.
"There are immature white blood cell BLASTS spilling into the blood stream." Who knew? Do they sound like Rice Crispies? Funny, I didn't hear anything.
"You no longer need a bone marrow transplant, but Chemo." Wow! That's a relief, wait, what? Yeah, now I've done it!
"You have slipped into acute Leukemia and you must get to Christiana Hospital immediately." I knew I slipped on something, but…and hang on, it sounds like I did this on purpose just to piss you off.There, I feel better. See how stupid this running of the mouth sounded to me?
As he rambles on and on, my questions are ignored, or answered in medical gibberish that I can't understand. (I mean, a BLAST, really?) This is deja vu all over again. I remember the altercation with the other Oncologist a month ago who insisted that the appointment HE made for Christiana had to be kept - it was life & death back then, too - until I called him on it. He wasn't happy about that. Caught in a lie never makes for a comfortable situation.
Neither wine nor hard liquor has touched these parched lips in 2 months. Sigh!