Arteliance

This morning I went for bloods and was reminded of all the times I went for bloods when I was sick and the results were life or death (although at the time I sort of blocked that out of my mind). For someone with leukemia the blood test results take on an almost cosmic, overwhelming importance. They become your whole world and are given daily in the hospital—even written on a poster on the wall in your room. They indicate how the chemotherapy and then the recovery are going. First, there is the CBC which gives your overall numbers: WBC (white blood count) needs to be up but not too far, RBC (red blood count) helps one not feel exhausted and platelets also have to be up high enough to keep one from just bleeding to death inside.

After the bone marrow transplant the CBC numbers indicate whether or not its working. i.e. whether the transplant engrafts. Later, the emphasis switched to ALP and ALT (liver function tests indicative of GVHD which is a complex process where you want some but not too much). I had moderate–severe GVHD which is more than you want. The numbers had to be monitored weekly and my medication adjusted accordingly. Fortunately my GVHD was responsive to medication and only flared up when I did good things like tai chi or art workshops (like I said, it was complicated).

Today’s bloods were just part of a routine checkup but the reminders of what bloods used to be like for me brought tears to my eyes.

Stop eating bread. That’s it.

4 or 5 years ago, I would eat a couple of slices of toast for breakfast and a sandwich for lunch. I weighed over 200 lbs. By substituting cereal for breakfast and a muffin or soup for lunch I began losing 1–2 kilos a month. I went from 95 kg (210 lbs.) down to 65 kg (143 lbs). I’m 170 cm (5 ft. 7 in.) and my BMI went from 32.9 (obese) to 22.4 (normal).

I didn’t starve myself. I eat 5 times a day and get a minimum of 2,000 calories a day. But I don’t eat bread.

Why I don’t wear a poppy:

• The Vietnam War 1959–1975 coincides exactly with the first 16 years of my own life

• I grew up with these terrible images every night and day in the media

• wearing a poppy feels like tacitly approving such terrible violence

You’re 6:49 a.m.

You’re the time of day right around sunrise, when the sky is still a pale bluish gray. The streets are empty, and the grass and leaves are a little bit sparkly with dew. You are the sound of a few chirpy birds outside the window. You are quiet, peaceful, and contemplative. If you move slowly, it’s not because you’re lazy – it’s because you know there’s no reason to rush. You move like a relaxed cat, pausing for deep stretches that make your muscles feel alive. You are long sips of tea or coffee (out of a mug that’s held with both hands) that slowly warm your insides just as the sun is brightening the sky.

onematch.ca

Being a stem cell transplant recipient myself and being alive because of it, I can’t begin to express how important it is for people to register to donate.

First Day of School

Creating an entry and trackback so that my friend who moved to Thailand can find me.

Where It All Began, undated, black and white photo postcard, 5.5 X 3.87 in.

This is where my mom was born.