“Trixie Belden” was one of those pseudo-mystery-detective series for girls, not quite as popular as Nancy Drew, but somehow I liked the Trixie Belden characters better than Nancy Drew.
In one of the books, Trixie wakes up on the first day of the month and the first thing she says is, “Rabbit! Rabbit!” She then is thrilled because the wish she said the night before will come true that month. And yes, her wish for a new mystery to solve comes true, and right away.
Much later in life I learned that Trixie’s version is a variant of an English superstition which made its way to the east coast. Every now and then, I think about “Rabbit! Rabbit!” on the first day of a month. Last night, my wish was that the results I got yesterday were just not the turn-around I needed, what I was hoping for, and anxious I wouldn’t get. My wish is that this is the start of a new downward trend.
Visibly relieved that the tumor marker fell by a statistically significant amount, my doctor said that finally, things are headed in the right direction. On top of that, all of my blood chemistry was downright normal, my platelets are holding steady, and my practically wiped-out other immunoglobulins actually were slightly up. Medical home run this inning. I just don’t feel better; I am better.
And I’m perking along, even with a dose of Rituxan yesterday. Maybe Rituxan and I have come to an understanding after all these months.
Thank you for all those prayers offered, those candles lit, those fingers crossed, those “Rabbit! Rabbits!” said, and please keep ‘em coming, because the big bad IgM number has to keep falling by a whole heck of a lot still before this mystery story gets a happy ending.
P.S. I couldn’t think of a good “Rabbit! Rabbit!” photo, so here’s the best I could do: my “flashy trout back speckled” romaine lettuce.