I feel like I should be on next week's episode of House. Seriously. I have something that neither of my doctors can diagnose (one being a world renouned leader in hemotological diseases - AKA blood cancers, and the other one just being nifty and smart likea good doctor should), and now she's putting me on prednizone because she doesn't know what's wrong with me. I could be the perfect "Diagnostics Unit" case. You'd think that a year after a transplant I'd be all spiffy, right?
...wrong. Maybe I'll just live my life miserably with a suppressed blood supply. I'm doomed. Bloody brilliant. *snorts* I'm a pun goddess.