Evening, good luck.
I was standing in the parking lot, in a light drizzle, and witnessed an unending stream of morbidly obese women going in and out. Between that and their damned social distancing maze outside, it was like watching steers going through a stockyard cattle chute. Un-believable. I thought, my life has come to this? *chuckle* Could be worse. At least I’m still on the right side of the grass. Got an appointment to see someone tomorrow to get set up for an upper GI endoscopic exam. My oncologist wants to check for bleeders. He still doesn’t know what to make of my low platelet count. If there isn’t something wrong in my gut (and there may be, I was diagnosed with bad GERD almost 20 years ago and have to take omeprazole every day), the next option might be regular platelet transfusions, which was an early treatment option when this was first detected. He thinks it’s because my platelets are backing up in my spleen, which is why I have splenomegaly, but I’ll opt for the transfusions before I let them cut the whole thing out. Which is also on the table, but I won’t be. OK, I’m pig-headed. If they do find anything (which I almost hope, to get past this one thing, anyway), they go in with bands and a laser and do a clip-n-snip and patch it all up.