I think my stomach tried to jump out of my mouth today.

As much as I love the people who work at Westchester Oncology and Hematology Group (aka WOHG) and I do, I'm sick of seeing them. As Katrina mentioned, I'm having trouble keeping my blood counts up. And technically, it's not me, who is having the trouble. (Katrina is currently typing right now, as I am cacooned on the bed...Give everybody a wave, Katrina) [editor's note: what am I, like, three???] So at the risk of having Katrina hijak this post because she is pissed off about what I'm about to say, I will tell you exactly whose fault it is...

It's Katrina's. [We think.]

We think.

The current working theory is that for some reason, while Katrina's stem cells and blood cells work perfectly fine in her own body [exceptionally well, thank you], in my body they have developed an autoimmune "issue". For those of you who don't understand the concept of an autoimmune issue, it appears as though Katrina's immune system is attacking, and destroying, my blood cells [whose blood cells??!!] which is only humorous, because they are technically her blood cells. So, for those of you taking bets on which would win out, ADD or OCD, apparently we have a winner. [You lost me...which is interesting because I'm typing this...]

Here's the way it was supposed to work: My immune cells have been giving Fred a free pass; they drift by and they say, "Hey Lymph, ya puttin' on some weight?" We did everything possible to give them a clue, and finally they got it. They just didn't know how to fight it. My stem cells were the cave men of immune systems: they picked up sticks and stones and threw them at Lymph...which only served to piss Fred off. So we sent in special ops. Katrina's stem cells arrive and for the first few weeks, they do their job. My stem cells do offer to help: show them where the stockpile of stones is, give them tips on how to properly throw a stick...and Katrina's stem cells were very polite.

Katrina's cells: That's very nice, but we brought our own weapons.
Elizabeth's cells: (with awe) Ooooo....what's that???
Katrina's cells: (as if talking to 2-year-old) This?...This is an uzi. (Turn toward Fred) Watch and learn...

[Hmm...I suppose she has a point; Cells: stop attacking self & secure the perimeter....and stop listening to Elizabeth's screwed up immune system!! That's why we had to send you in to begin with!!!]

That's the way it was supposed to happen. But apparently Katrina's stem cells got a little trigger happy. [whoops!] So now, in the past two weeks, I've needed six units of platelets and two units of red blood cells...and all she says is "whoops." [whoops-a-daisy???]

So what is the fix for all of this? We're hoping that it's IVIG, which I'll be receiving on Monday at DFCI. You'll have to tune in next week for more on that procedure.

That's pretty much all I [we] have for today except to explain the title of today's post. This morning, I had a flashback to 10th grade Biology, when I recalled learning about the eating habits of a starfish. As you may know, starfish have a hard shell, and no mouth or lips, just a hole. So when starfish need to eat, it actually forcibly expells its stomach out through the hole, lands it on top of what it is trying to eat, partially digests it and then sucks it back in. That's what I felt like this morning as my stomach tried to jump of my mouth: a starfish. It made me wonder, if I cut off a limb, will it regrow?