Well, we got here this morning and went for counts. She was at 290 last week, and needed to be at 1000 in order to get admitted to the hospital and given chemo. Frankly, I was expecting to be sent home.
9000! Thousand, not hundred! And then they said ... "And we have a room already."
We made counts! And didn't have to sit in the clinic all day!
So, we're in our room now, and I'm loving the coincidence that LW's counts were 9.09 and we're in room 909, when a cart comes by, pushed by a woman dressed in a hospital volunteer vest.
"Today is Thursday!" she says brightly. I look at her, blankly.
"It's pizza day!"
Oh. Yeah, we've never been given a room by lunchtime. Who knew?
So ... good counts, a fresh room, and a slice of pizza.
Classify these as good times.