So Pretty When Shot with Dye and Photographed

I’m feeling like my old self again. My hair is back to reddish-brown like God and Redken meant it to be. My skin is glistening once more, thanks to the Florida sun, salt sea air, and medicated soaps and creams. Been reacquainting myself with dear friends and family that I’ve missed for far too long. The boys are loving life, encircled within a strong support system, and can’t get enough of Bo’s Ice Cream and their grandparents’ pool. Soon Husband will be joining us.

Life is good.

So of course my platelet count has to dip into the low sixties. Just to keep me on my toes.

I visited Hot Hematologist on Monday and he gave me the somber news. Dead within weeks, I’m told.

Kidding. Stop clapping.

He got out my numbers from the past three years and said that my low platelets are within the normal range *for me*.

And other creatures of the night.

I had to ask if my vegan diet could be to blame. He said probably not. I have an autoimmune disorder – which means that my immune system is a bit overzealous and attacking the platelets.

See, I told you I was an overachiever. On some level. Or maybe my immune system is overly conservative, attacking poor platelets just because they support same sex marriage.

“I really don’t think diet is to blame,” he said, “but if you want to go carnivorous and use this an excuse. Feel free.”

I made a wrinkled nose at him.

“I know you’d like to have one less thing to worry about,” he said, “but really there’s no need to worry. We’ll keep an eye on it, but I’m sure this is just going to be your condition for a while.”

“My numbers were in the 200s up until eight and a half years ago.”

“Pregnancy. The gift that keeps on giving. But you look good. Dr. Berger did a great job, didn’t he?”

Sigh. So nice to have a hot doctor who compliments well.

“You’re going to be fine, Catherine. I’m more alarmed as a Yankees fan looking at your Red Sox jersey than I am as a doctor looking at your platelet count.”

A Yankees fan? Damn. Not so hot anymore.