It’s basically been three months since my hospitalization. In that time, my blood has almost gotten back to the normal iron range (1.0 more for my hemoglobin and I am there). My cells are still tinier than they should be… but bigger than they were when I was hospitalized.
And I don’t have to go back for a few months!
Which is a relief, because his office is so disorganized. It took two attempts for this appointment. Two weeks ago, I showed up for my appointment and left after waiting for an hour without being seen. This time, I was taken back promptly, but it still took 40 minutes of sitting in the room before he talked to me.
The kicker was that the door was open slightly, so I could see into his personal office and see that yes, if he wasn’t with a patient he was doing the paperwork for their case… and also talking to a pharmaceutical rep.
As badly as his office is run, he’s a good doctor. He’s one of the few people to actually accept that I am the size I am, and that underweight for some people isn’t necessarily a major health problem for me. So for that, I’ll try to get as early an appointment I can and expect to wait.
In related news, as I was telling the Oldest Kidlet about my day today, he started in on how he had to write a personal narrative about his day. As he loves to tell anyone and everyone, a personal narrative is a true story about your day. He looked at me and asked me to tell my personal narrative.
He interrupted with this rhyming version.
“I went to the doctor. I had to wait. I was sad sad sad.
But then he said I was better, I am glad glad glad.”
I told him I might write about that. Then he looked at me. “You mean, you write personal narratives? That’s what you write? I’m going to tell my teacher on Monday that you write personal narratives for a living.”
I was so happy that he understood the concept of my blog, that it didn’t even occur to me that he’d tacked on “for a living.” Guess he has big dreams for me, too.