Weird. I've donated blood many times and I've never thought of the blood as mine once it's in the bag. Now I find myself wondering who else out there has a little of me in them. And it is indeed a little freaky.

I know logic has no part in this, but he likely has donated. Hopefully he can consider that the person doing the donation wanted to help him in his recovery, just as he wanted to help others.

Apparently we don't know how we will feel about these things in advance.

I feel very sorry for anyone who tries to maintain a job through chemotherapy.

A world of truth there. And yet so many do have to.

It makes me rethink my previous dismissal of the Jehovah's Witnesses refusal of blood transfusions etc as just silliness. I wonder at their reasoning.

Apparently I'm the body xenophobe antithesis. I sort of feel like rocks and bushes and radishes and squirrels and humans are all made of the same stuff. Emotionally, it wouldn't bother me to share, either way. Aside from medical incompatibilities, of course.

ETA: Though, I do get the body integrity thing--I have a lot of body horror at the idea of something other than me forcing change in the body where I live: surgery, drugs, environmental mutation, Hannibal Lecter, etc.

I am Beverly in this matter.

Hello, Buffistas! I am not really here. I am in St. Augustine, about to sleep the sleep of exhausted from five days of driving hither and yon, mostly yon, only one hither. It's been quite fun, but now I'm ready to not-drive for a couple days. IRN, my room has a balcony and an ocean view!

The zombie bone in my jaw doesn't bother me any, so I figure it's not going to be an issue if I ever need something more invasive.

But I get where he's coming from. Not right or wrong but more like a brain-stem reaction that you either have or you don't. The Jehovahs are still craxy though.

I feel very sorry for anyone who tries to maintain a job through chemotherapy.

Working helped keep me sane during mine, or at the very least kept me from spending 4 months on the sofa surrounded by peanut butter jars, but even with that, I never could have done it without a really supportive workplace that I knew wouldn't penalize me when I did need to miss work.

Maybe it's because the body I was given is so blah and broken (for lack of a better way of putting it). I'd welcome cyborg body upgrades. Not Borg, per se. I'd want to maintain mental abilities. But, give me Steve Austin legs, and I'd be a happy camper!

Speaking of, a little more info on the clinical study. It's observational, no cures to test. Looks like I can't add "Lab Rat" to my resume just yet. I'm in phone tag right now. But, found the link to the study on the Clinical Trials government website: [link]

The idea of stuff from other people being in my body doesn't weird me out much, but the idea of artificial stuff (like joint replacements) hits some kind of "wrong!" button in my brain. It seems fine for other people, but the idea of some plastic and metal thing inside ME permanently just seems wrong.

Well FUCK. Naturopaths are no longer allowed to prescribe Ambien in WA. Guess which insomniac has 3 of her meds left, and is apparently going to taper off of it waaaaay faster than she expected to?

Let me tell you, reading about possible side-effects of tapering off of Ambien is not stressful in the least. Nope, not at all. stares at laptop screen in mild horror

Bye, being well-rested. It was nice experiencing you.