Katrina at the wheel...

As a child sneaking an early peak at Christmas presents, I am feeling simultaneous guilt and exhileration at posting on Elizabeth's blog. It is I, Katrina. (You can tell Elizabeth is feeling lackluster, when it becomes "all about me" through someone else's eyes...)

Do not fret, Elizabeth is fine. In fact, shouts of "King! King! Good! King! Lie down! No, not walk away! I'm very specific! Roll over! No.... you're walking away...alright one more time, JUMP!" emanate from the room next to me, where Elizabeth is trying to tame her new pets on Nintendogs, a portable computer game for Nintendo DS gifted to her by Kathy and Paul Stefunek. [Since the thank you card will be long in coming (this is after all Elizabeth), please know she is exceedingly grateful, as is my mother who is happy not to have a real dog in the basement. ]

Having been given the task of updating the reading community on the foibles of Elizabeth's life, I ponder my first draft:
Elizabeth's blood counts were low on Friday.
So she had to have transfusions.
Which sucked.
So she was angry and sad.
And now she can't go to church or out in public.
Because you all have nasty germs.
So please leave her a message to cheer her up.
(And take a shower.)
Although I was told I had to write more, feel free to read the above and skip to the commenting.
I would.

So here is the humor-filled story I was instructed to relay: Since the mobilization chemo (Does anyone wonder why it is called that? Doesn't it actually immobilize various functions of the body? Like, um, bone marrow activity? Perhaps it should be called IMmobilization chemo....?) Regardless, since the mobilization chemo last week, Elizabeth has had to inject herself twice a day with neupogen, a drug that jacks up her production of stem cells; simultaneously her platelets, red & white blood cells are not as plentiful...hence the necessity of the aforementioned blood transfusions of Friday.

But I digress, yet again.
(This is so the last time she will ask me to do this.)

Insisting that she administer her shots to herself, Elizabeth, aimed and fired the first dose with success. However, at shot number two, she encountered a dilemma: 1 lonely Sponge Bob Band-Aid. What to do, what to do? Ah ha! Our clever heroine decides to inject her second shot directly next to the first thereby maximizing the coverage from the sole survivor of the once powerful Sponge Bob force. As she gently squeezed the second syringe, the liquid flow seamlessly into her thigh; the suddenly, it spewed forth like a geyser from the crater left by the first injection. (I tried to convince Elizabeth that this demanded a graphic, but to no avail.)

Thank God for mothers, especially those who realize the emotional value of a good adhesive bandage. Mom rushed to K-Mart to purchase Care Bear Band-Aids, saving the day (and thereby becoming the second person to purchase Elizabeth themed bandages....I am still on the look-out for Wonder Woman Band-Aids).

My final remark is a plea for comments. Elizabeth also loves cards, cookies, pina colados and getting caught in the rain (but not right now). I need to go now--Elizabeth is finished painting and needs attention (yes, she switched from training dogs to painting because hyper-ADD is also a side effect of chemo). Besides, she is whining. Please stop the whining.
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