August 30, 2023 - Day 3

     The day started with no sticks.  That was a welcome change.  The tests this morning were nothing terrible, except one of them was a pulmonary evaluation.   It’s tough to breathe when you have a cold. 
     I did have a short moment of heartbreak.  According to the tech this morning I have shrunk an inch and a half from what I thought I was.   I didn’t realize that she was checking my height or I would have stood up taller.
    The same tech did something else that I hadn’t ever had measured.  She measured my wingspan.  Let’s just say that it was considerably less than former UK star Anothony Davis.   With my age, height, weight, and wingspan, I am not expecting a call anytime soon from an NBA team.
      I headed back to the motel for a couple of hours.
     The first appointment in the afternoon was a nutritional education training.  I brushed my teeth before I left.  I didn’t think Diane’s brownies between my teeth would bode too well.
     The final appointment was a leach.  It sucked most of the life out of me.  The day may have begun with no sticks.  It ended with an IV.
     It was a test to take a picture of my heart.  Apparently as some folks have surmised, there must have been a question about whether I have a heart or not.        The 15-minute photo session morphed into about an hour of lying as still as possible.
     I crawled off the machine and shuffled my way to the parking garage.  After three days of physical and mental testing, I was spent.
     I drove to Texas Roadhouse, scarfed down my meal and came back to the room.  I can tell the future.  It won’t be long after I finish this that I will be in bed.
     The hematologist overseeing my care, Dr. Leung, wants me to see an endocrinologist to determine when surgery on my thyroid would be possible.  Here’s a specific matter of prayer.   The next available consultation is September 13th, which is the possible date of the chemotherapy.   I may go and sit one day until they get tired of looking at me.
     Tomorrow is a significant day.  I should be informed if I am a candidate for the transplant.  If not, I guess we cross that bridge then.
     I see THE doc tomorrow morning who will make that decision.  I also hope he gives me something to kick this cold.
     Day three I felt pummeled.  There’s a reason I never wanted to be a boxer.