If I look pale it's because I was waiting for a blood transfusion, the first of my life. Hopefully that will help, although I haven't noticed any particular lack of energy and continue to walk at least 30 minutes every day. (Demi loves that part of the visit.)
I'm eating real food now, as real as it will ever be for me. Today's lunch was chicken salad on a croissant. Once I got past the fact that I can't have the 100% whole wheat bread that I am used to and prefer, I enjoyed the meal. I'm also eating a lot of applesauce too - both breakfast and lunch so far today. I passed on the veggie soup and salad. I really lack appetite these days.
Surgeon #7 came in this morning. He stressed the importance of avoiding surgery - no one on the team wants to operate on me so I guess the high risk is for real. I always thought surgeons liked cutting up people, but apparently they're picky and I'm not on their list.
I renamed one of the floor doctors. He is from Chile, a warm gracious general practitioner who uses the phrase, "My dear" in every other phrase. It would be like this: "So, my dear, my preference, my dear, would be to help you avoid surgery, my dear, because you see, my dear, that the risk for you, my dear, is that more damage, my dear, would be done than benefit, my dear, and possibly, my dear, make things worse, my dear."
I am not exaggerating! The second day he came in I told him I had given him a nickname, Dr. Madir. He burst out laughing, then stopped and asked, in all seriousness, if I were offended. No, definitely not. Now some of the nurses are referring to him by my nickname. He is well liked and not as patronizing as the example might imply.
Today, when I was walking, I passed him at a desk and he told me about the blood transfusion which he really considers necessary, and we discussed other questions I had. Then he said he was leaving for vacation and who would take his place, another floor doctor I like. And then jumped up, gave me a quick hug, said "I like you," and wished me well.
I like warm doctors.