Whether it’s the whitish-grey curtain (sky) hanging over our frozen city, the medical issues I’ve been grappling with recently, or the latest work aspirations I’ve thrown into the mix…I’ve been feeling pretty darn reflective and melancholy lately.
I don’t think this is a bad thing. Notice I didn’t say “malaise” or “depressed.” I’m actually oddly excited and enthused on top of everything. Let me provide some context.
I have a blood disorder called Essential Thrombocytosis. If you’re a regular PD reader, you’ve probably noticed a strip or two referencing this. It basically means that my bone marrow produces too many platelets (I liken it to gooey cake batter). Anyway, I was diagnosed with ET in 2009…even ran a story line about it in 2010 (here’s the blog post). My only symptoms were migraines and occasional fatigue, which I thankfully got under control. My lone treatment was a daily baby aspirin to keep my blood thinned.
Unfortunately, my platelet count has been rising, slowly and steadily, over the past 5 years. When the count reaches a certain level, more aggressive medication is recommended. I’ve finally crossed that threshold, and last week I started taking meds to lower the count.
I knew there could be side effects. And dosage experiments. And even a mental slump as the reality of this disease hits home. That’s exactly what happened this week. As far as side effects go, I think I finally have it under control, so that’s a relief. In a few weeks I’ll see if the meds are doing what they’re supposed to.
In the meantime, I’m embarking on some new side work endeavors — which I won’t reveal in case they don’t pan out (c’mon, I’m a little superstitious). As with all new things, this means I’m excited, enthused, nervous, worried, and fearful at once. It also requires a fair amount of research, so throw “consumed” in the mix. It’s amazing I haven’t added a new medicinal cocktail to my regimen:
The reason all this isn’t bad is because I’m starting to feel, well, repurposed. It’s funny. So much has happened in my professional life this past decade, I kept telling everyone I needed a break. Last year, after the extensive planning of my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah, I told everyone I needed a break. After years of publishing books, doing signings, presenting, and meeting deadlines, I told everyone I needed a break.
This month, after all the dust settled, after some reflecting and talking with colleagues, and looking into the uncharted future, I’ve come to terms with something about myself:
I hate inertia.
I like momentum. I like new challenges. I’m even starting to like the excitement of the unknown. I’ve always been ambitious, but I thought once I hit my stride in my field, I’d relax a little. Boy, was I wrong.
What I actually get is bored.
So that is why, dear readers, I’m happy to embrace this period of reflection and even the melancholy wake-up call of a blood disorder. This is why I’m aiming to try new things (alongside planning the next Bat Mitzvah – hey, I didn’t say I was sane). I don’t think it’s an accident that new aspirations have collided with a physical stumbling block. I think things happen for a reason.
So wish me luck. And happy adventures.