You know the kind, the ones that only surface when you are tired and don't have the energy to keep them at bay or during your dreams when you're not totally in control. The kind that pop into your head suddenly at 3am and keep you awake when you are desperate for sleep. Yeah those kind.
I've been avoiding the fact that I had routine blood work done in November, I wanted to establish care with a standard 'ol internal medicine doctor and have my cholesterol checked for good measure. We discussed my interesting health history (including diagnosis and remission of my ITP) and it was decided to check my platelets for good measure. I was told if everything were fine I'd receive a letter in the mail with a breakdown of my blood work. Instead I received a call. I'm no longer in remission. After just three short months my platelets have gone down by more than 50% and are were below normal, but not at a dangerous level. Right now my internal med dr is ok with monitoring me again in a few months, depending on that result I'll have to find a hematologist (I can no longer be treated by Dr T due to my lovely insurance).
This news was a blow, obviously not as bad as last time but a blow none the less. I told only a couple friends and waited to tell V because his uncle was in the hospital, he had a heart and was still being monitored. I needed V's uncle to be a little better before I could burden V with this news. After a few days uncle was released and Thanksgiving had passed so I brought it up to V, he handles things differently than most people (I think), and often times I have to tell him exactly what I need from him because he follows my lead (if I'm freaked out he freaks out, I'm typically his rock). So in this instance where I was sad and a little freaked out, I needed him to be my rock. Initially he got kinda defensive which hurt. I had to explain to him that I'm not as freaked out as last time and that this will not determine how I live my life but I am sad and I should be allowed that. Once he understood where I was coming from he was supportive again. It was strange this time around, I didn't want to hear all the puppies-and-rainbow business, I just wanted to be sad for a moment. I'm really relating to Christina on Parenthood right now though her diagnosis is clearly much worse than mine.
The holidays were nice, they allowed me to been to push all this to the back of my mind and just sort of be on auto pilot about it all. I reminded myself that I don't look sick and I don't feel sick, I can still have a relatively normal life and best of all it's not genetic so Liam has no greater chance of having it than I did. With "the holidays" long gone it's not been as easy to stay busy and a little fear has crept back into my mind. I've started having nightmares about returning to the Cancer Specialists office for treatments but this time it's the treatments I've feared this whole time. I have dreams that Dr T is disappointed that I'm not well, as if I've done something to make this return. I find myself thinking about the strangest details of it all at the strangest times. I realize this is all just the junk in the back of my mind making it's way forward when I have little control, you know because I'm sleeping (or at least trying to).
I'm still working out, about to start training plan for my next half marathon. I'm still doing bodycombat for cross training. I'm still being me and being a wife and mom, still enjoying life. I refuse to let this define me, I'm just sad that it's even still a part of me, I'm sad I have to accept its back in again. I have to adjust to the fact that I have a chronic disease for the rest of my life...again and that is going to take some work. I feel like I'm sort of back at square one, maybe square three or five but back towards the beginning of this whole thing and that is disappointing.