Breaking your arm at the hospital is much less of a hassle than doing so getting into a kayak at 6:30AM a hour+ ambulance ride away. Lu and I were killing a bit of time eating salads while our dear friend upstairs chatted with her Doc. It was an awesome make-your-own salad bar creation.
It wasn’t awesome enough for me to not lean on my elbow though. One of the not-quite-dead-yet offended green peppers, egged on by the spring mix, lashed out and snapped my humerus in the exact same spot it broke last year. Of course there wasn’t but a thin egg shell of bone there. The wonderful titanium spike held its ground and fought off the assault. I promptly crushed and swallowed the out of line greens while Lu went and paved my way back onto the docs schedule.
This all happened about an hour after learning from the doc that stable doesn’t mean dormant and scheduling a bone marrow MRI. Fourteen cycles of stable had instilled a bit of complacency. My guard was so far down that a bowl of veggies kicked my ass. It turns out I might be mutating into a nonsecretory myelomechanisian (that’s a new word – meaning a mechanical engineer with myeloma who does not secrete protein for convenient monitoring of his tumor burden).
I’m on a strictly meat, bean, grain and dairy diet now due to a phobia of violent vegetables. Oh the joys of myeloma are beyond the imagination of mere mortals.