My dad, I'm thinking about him, having just hung up the phone from a long conversation where we got out our laptops and he went over the spreadsheet with me that he sent this morning and has been updating since 2009 with his blood levels;
the red and white blood count, the platelets, hemoglobin, nutrophil, etc., and noting changes related to events like his chemo, or the neupogen injections, and switching from this tab to that tab to look at the percentage increases or decreases,
and bottom line—since it seems he is easing into the more acute form of leukemia—he has to decide whether or not he wants to undergo the more intense chemo that would be the treatment for it, or just try to enjoy the two or three months he might have.
And that decision is not numerically based, in the least, but the data makes him feel better, so I hang in there for the analysis, and have flashbacks to sitting at our kitchen table, doing my math homework, and the weary exasperation in his voice, as I struggled to stay focused.
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