...or not so much.

Well, that was confusing.

We said all the right things, like "we're gonna wait and see what happens," and "we don't want to make any assumptions," and "we're not ging to jump to any conclusions," but we were jumping, my friends, jumping very far. We just knew that her platelets were going to be fine--equal to, if not better than, last week's count. We had that gut feeling that this was all over and Eden could resume a needle-free lifestyle again. So how did Monday go?

90,000.

90,000? What does that mean? Apart from the obvious--that her platelets have resumed their normally scheduled programming of halving the previous week's count--we couldn't make heads or tails of it. Does this mean that she's not better after all? That two Mondays ago was a fluke? That weekly fluctuations are part of the typical recovery period? That we should go ahead and shave our heads before we go gray and bald by year's end, thus saving us the torture of suffering through it? Who knows?

Our doctor most likely does, for one, although he's not telling us much.

So I now declare next Monday the 24th the new D-Day. Surely we'll know by then what's really going on. Surely.

But I'm not holding my breath on this one.