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I have no hemoglobin.

This is not teh good.

The last couple of weeks have been very interesting for me.  Firstly, I’ve not been feeling well.  Eight months of pseudo-chemo will to that to a man, but I didn’t think it was as bad as things had turned.  It all started during Iphigenie, when I was too exhausted to check my voice mail and missed a message from my doctor about my last blood test.  I had assumed that things were normal, or as normal as can be understood given what was happening to my body, and that I’d be able to keep pushing full speed ahead.

Around Thanksgiving, I was approached by people at work about my health: they thought I was starting to lose my grip.  Looking back, I can see their point.  The decision was to give me a week off to try and recover, and a stern warning to be more careful with my personal health assessment.  The sad thing is that it was right after my trip to Vegas for Thanksgiving with the family, so I ended up missing two weekends in a row because of it.  It’s a good thing that I actually won a little money on the trip, isn’t it?

Right after my meeting at work, I had a pre-existing appointment with my Doctor.  He took one look at me and it was quite clear that I was on my last legs.  According to the lab results that came in the following day, I’d lost at least 40% of my hemoglobin since starting the medication in March.  I think that most people recognize what this means, but basically my body had lost significant ability to deliver oxygen.

It made sense in hindsight:  exhaustion after going up stairs, general clumsiness, racing heart rate, the feeling of diminished lung capacity…  my body was literally starving for breath.

So, we cut back on one of the medications for a couple of weeks.  I’ll go back in and get more blood taken, and then we’ll decide the next step.  I should start taking the pills again around that time, because I want to devote as much energy to ensuring that my system is clean when the treatments end in February.  According to my Doctor, the body rebounds very quickly and I’m feeling the positive effects of the change after five days.

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Living on tips is always a tricky proposition.  You get used to a certain level of income that rolls in on a regular basis.  You become comfortable, you become complacent, and it becomes quite clear that unless something major happens that things will not change unless you choose to depart the job.

Then something happens, like my medical situation, and everything is thrown into shock.  I’m not worried that I can’t pay my bills if I were to become incapacitated, because I’ve been saving up significant money just for this kind of emergency, but I don’t want to touch it if I don’t have to.  That’s sensible enough, right?

I just want to make it to January, if only to reduce the amount of downtime.  I’d love to make it to my birthday or later, because then I know that I’d be home free.  Hell, I don’t want to be a wimp at all if it is possible.

I thought things were secure.  I felt that I was in total control of my destiny, at least at the moment.  And now it’s quite clear that it’s not true anymore, or at least it never was.  I’m not blaming anyone, but it does put one simple fact into relief: I had concrete goals when I started bartending, and once I’ve recovered both physically and financially from the next couple of months I should start looking to the future.  I don’t want to tend bar for the rest of my life, or at least not as my only source of income.

Change is coming, and I’m feeling the crucible start to heat.  It’s very scary.

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The next step is the meeting with my Doctor in a little over two weeks.  We’ll make some decisions then.

Until then, I’ll rest and soldier on.  The rest will take care of itself.