Nine! The little f-ing platelets dropped to nine! So, after calming my pissed-off self down (a bit), I headed to the medical center for a transfusion this morning. I left with 43. We'll see how long that lasts.
I also had a conversation with my oncologist. He got the results of my antiplatelet antibody test back, and they show that I am indeed making an antibody against my platelets. Stupid, treacherous body. His recommendation is to have a Prosorba Column to filter my blood and get rid of the antibodies. Now I'm trying to find someplace in this state that does it. If Wikipedia is to be believed, and yes, that is the latest, most seemingly accurate and relevant information I have been able to find thus far on this treatment, this device isn't even produced anymore. But, I don't know if that means that facilities that have it can still do it, or if there are super-special accoutrements that are needed in order to utilize the device which are also unavailable.
Further, I asked my oncologist how confident he was that this is the only thing that is acting upon my platelets. He said he wasn't 100 percent confident, but is pleased that we now have something to take action against. Fine. I suspected that he wasn't completely convinced that this is the sole issue, and I am always down with action plans. So, we'll roll with this for now.
On a completely different note, on my drives up to New York and back, I received appreciative honks (I'm interpreting them as appreciative and I don't care what you think) from half-a-dozen long-haul truckers. Which proves one thing: If I wear a dress, and am traveling fast enough past a bored and lonely man, I am still perceived as attractive. At least to six of them, anyway.