Days of Disaster

On Tuesday, I needed an long infusion of Igg because after looking at my immunoglobulin panel, it became clear that I have no or few working normal immunoglobulins. I may rewrite this post when able with explanations because this is the 4th day of a 40mg dex pulse and I'm incompetent as hell today as a writer, but for now, accept that the results of the Igg test, not normally used by light chainers like me in disease management, scared me. This allo transplant has to begin and it's being delayed for bureaucratic insurance reasons unclear to me.

On Wednesday, 10pm, after I finished a conversation with an high-school buddy, I went to brush my teeth, and was stunned to notice a vast flow of blood coming from my nose, beard blood red. It was a complete surprise. The blood high up in my nose, beyond the range of probing fingers, was coagulated and involved one nostril, no flow to the rear, so was able to rule out correctly pulmonary involvement. At least I hoped my conclusion was correct. The flow took more than an hour to stop. Because of complicated insurance issues, I tried to avoid urgent care. I held on instead.

This bleeding happens when the density of platelets in the blood drops enough to stop coagulation of wounds. Wednesday early I nicked my thumb on a knife cutting a bagel. Tiny and annoying. Bandage. Done. Thursday, brushing my teeth, the old scratch opened up as new and I was covered in blood again. Off to urgent care now, no hesitation. We tested the hell out of me, I recovered on my own, and now I think the recovery may be stable. Some weird consequence of the Igg infusion is my guess. No one seems to know. I have acquired a bit of phobia of nose blowing. I was in urgent care for nearly three hours before the decision was made to let me go after fighting the blood since 7 am. Exhausted.

I am stoned out of my wits at this moment on steroids, and this post is in no wise as carefully written as I would like (I think I'm writing pure jibberish), so maybe a clear head day will come soon and I'll fix it. But I thought you'd want to know that my life seems to be hanging by a thread, but the thread from Scripps Clinic is a good strong one so I'm still ok. Still, I would feel better if someone removed the sword. Like Damocles, I'm having trouble relaxing under it.