Saturday, July 28, 2007

What do you mean, the week is over?

Where did it go? I suppose a better question would be, where did the summer go? I can't believe this is the last weekend of July. I have spent the past two months in and out of the hospital. In those two months, I don't think I have been out of the hospital any longer than maybe ten days. Maybe. I'm going for two weeks this time, but apparently I'm neutropenic again, so there are no guarantees. As long as my intestine doesn't decide to free any more e-coli into my bloodstream...

I have spent this past week sleeping, with a very few notable exceptions. One was my interview on Wednesday, which I am currently transcribing. Another is this morning. I've mentioned before that a family friend of ours is running the Chicago Marathon with Team in Training, helping raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Woo! Anyway, so she invited me to come and meet her running group this morning. I rolled myself out of bed at 6 am and headed to the lakefront to say some vaguely inspiring things to a group of people who had just run between 8 and 12 miles. I think I'm more inspired by them though. They pull themselves out of bed every Saturday morning to run extreme distances, not to mention the running they do during the week, while maintaining families and jobs, all for a very good cause. I mean, not too many people do that. I don't think I'll be here for the actual Marathon, but I sure will be cheering them all on.

Otherwise, there's not much. My arms are covered in large bruises and small cuts from peripheral IVs. My platelets are still pretty low, so none of the old bruises are going away, and new ones keep forming. I think I'll just admit I'm a junkie and get it over with. That's sure what it looks like anyway. I find the bruises somewhat amusing, but mostly they annoy me. Maybe one day I'll be normal again. I hope that day comes soon... I'm starting to get worried. Oh well. Peace out.

1 comment:

Megan said...

As a spaztastic child, I can relate to your junkie-like appearance. I got a black eye once from running into a friend of mine, and my parents refused to go out with me if I wasn't wearing sunglasses because people kept asking me if I was being abused. True story.