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Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Who's that dodgy looking Scouser with the big bush and small bollards?


Yes, it's me at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Liverpool, being snapped by a former military photographer. It's not the first time someone's been shot by an ex-army man in a plaza, but this time it didn't result in the death of JFK.

As of this morning, that photo has been added to the rogues' gallery on the association website. They've put my profile in a slightly bigger font to emphasize my greater importance, and stuck me next to the bloke who hands out free iPads. That's a friendship I need to cultivate.

On the subject of people who give out tablets, I spoke to my doctor again today, and the good news is that there's every chance I'll live long enough to see the iPad 4. Assuming it comes out in the next year. A few days before Toby was born, she told me that if I survive the first few weeks of fatherhood, I should have another blood test to find out just how ill I am. I duly did so on September 7th, which was the day I got clamped. They did well to get a sample, as my blood was boiling at the time.

I was supposed to phone up for the results the following week, but I was busy posing for the photo above, so that combined with my sieve-like mental problems (which no blood test has ever fully explained) meant that it was last Wednesday before I gave the surgery a call. When I did, the receptionist did her usual thing of sounding cagey, and telling me that the doctor wants to see me.

So today was the day. And the results were the same. My white blood cell count is still abnormally low, albeit not quite as depth-plumbingly low as the last time, so my doctor's taking the same tack as before, and suggesting that although she still doesn't know what's wrong with me, we should avoid worrying about it, and meet up again in a couple of months time for another bloodletting. I've told her I'll look forward to it.

Interestingly, when I spoke to her in July, she wouldn't tell me exactly how low I'd sunk, but today she was a lot more forthcoming. The normal white blood cell count for a red-blooded male without a terminal illness is between 4 and 11. As this blog post handily documents, mine dropped as low as 3.1 in 2010 and my doctor was duly worried. She's now admitted that in July of this year it was 2.7.

Fortunately it's now back up to 3.1, a level which was hugely concerning two years ago, but is now "very encouraging", due to the fact that it's slightly better than before. Apparently if I was dying, it would keep going down. So I'm clearly rallying more successfully than Colin McRae, and likely to see another Christmas. Although if it's down again in November, she wants to swap Santa for a specialist, in the hope of getting some answers. It's a good job we're not worrying about this, otherwise it could all be quite concerning.

4 comments:

Peter Chapman said...

Was there more to that Colin McRae comment than just rallying? Naughty Naughty if so!

Phil said...

You know me, I'm nothing if not tasteless and offensive.

A Passer-By said...

It's good job I'm young and innocent, so don't know what you are talking about!!

Big Sis said...

Nice pic... and v. proud of you being on the BARS board lil' bro xx