Fourteen!

Wow. A week since I put an entry up. Busy week. And another week of poor sleep. One thing that has gotten better is meds time – we’re getting better and better at doing the pilling. When I got the refill on the Cyclosporin, Dr. Wagner let me know they had calculated the dosage of the first batch wrong—it was supposed to be .4 mg/kg of body weight; they simply made it .4 mg. This refill is the correct dosage.

Butterscotch and I have spent some quality time this week, him sprawled on my lap while I read or work on the computer. I’ve even come home to find him sprawled on Eric’s lap—very cute!

Cynthia came to see him on Thursday, and was quite pleased with how he was looking. She thought the cells would last through next Wednesday. I was incredulous, but he is doing well. I took him to the vet (And Dogs, Too, not the vet hospital) to get a PCV and a check for immature red blood cells. When he left the hospital it was between 11 and 13, and on Friday it was 14! The doc also stated she thought she saw signs of new cells on the smear. So, either a measurement is off somewhere, or he is, indeed, making new cells! I was so incredibly happy to hear that number.

I keep rediscovering something: if I don’t make plans for Friday night, I don’t have any plans on Friday night. I think sometimes I get so focused on the present I sometimes forget to plan <g>. So, I went to the store and bought a bunch of food. I made some chicken strips for Butterscotch, as he liked what I was eating the other night, and I made myself an incredible improvised chicken curry! I was surprised at how good it turned out. We then sat in the bay window while I read the Isthmus, then watched a bit of TV before bed.

Rachel will be picking me up in five minutes to go up to Devil’s Lake again to do the triathlon course as a continued part of our training. Last Sunday we went to see my cousin Colleen finish the Ironman here in Madison, and it was AWESOME! She did great. It was very inspiring. Rachel informed me while we were watching the finishers that we were going to be doing this in two years. “We are?” Yup. Wow. I’m a bit disbelieving, yet I’ll go for it. This means we’ll have to run a marathon next year (or more). I don’t have it in my self-definition at this point that “I’m a marathon runner”. I’ll need to be changing some self-concept, I guess.

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