CML - Thirty days with CML

I've been doing everything that I can to try to get my white blood cells to go down.  I've been drinking tons of water.  My primary care physician told me that I needed to drink extra fluids to flush the white blood cells.  I've been drinking so much water, I squish when I walk.  Every morning when i wake up, I lay in bed and picture my WBCs floating away.  I say my positive affirmations.  "My white blood cell count is going down."  "The Gleevec is working."  "I am getting better everyday."  I try to banish all negative thoughts from my mind.

Given the fact that my white blood cell count went up at my last appointment, I'm more than a little nervous leading up to my appointment on May 2nd, 2014.  I have a bag packed in my car, just in case.  I've decided that I will drive myself to the hospital if Dr. Hilliard wants to put me back in.  There is no way I'm going to pay for an ambulance ride, when I'm perfectly capable of driving myself.  (And I'm getting a little bit worked up over nothing.  Or possibly nothing.)

For some reason I am always late to this appointment.  I just cannot seem to get myself here on time.  I take pride in noting that I am again the best looking person in the waiting room.  It's kinda a sad victory.  I'm also the youngest person in the waiting room.  I imagine that the other people are maybe thinking I am waiting for someone else. ( I'm very self involved these days.  I'm sitting in a cancer waiting room, where everyone has had some kind of brush with cancer, and I think that people are speculating about me.)  The nurse calls my name.  I feel queasy, and its not the Gleevec.

I'm shocked when they take my blood pressure that it is low/good.  Dr. Hilliard comes in, and asks me how I am.  "Good.  Tired."  He takes a look at my paperwork, and says, "Well your counts are good.  White blood cells are down to 15.  Its like you're a normal person again."
"Fifteen?  Fifteen thousand?  Really?" I had been hoping to be under 100000.  This is way better than I expected.  Thank goodness.  I feel an enormous amount of relief.  I text Keith a happy face.  Not only are my white counts down, but my hemoglobin is up.  My body is making blood.  Hurray!  I'm so thankful that my body has decided to cooperate in my recuperation.

Dr. Hilliard agrees to allow me to go back to work, and writes me a work release.  I have never been more excited to get to go to work in my life.  Between my hospital stay, all of my "specialist" appointments, and my prescription co-pays, the bank account is running a little low.   I never in a million years would have thought that I would get cancer at 33, but then who ever would, right?