The evolution of blood clotting is a complex process that has long been the subject of detailed elucidation by science. Recently, this topic has achieved some internet notoriety. This is mainly a result of the “intelligent design” “community” pushing blood clotting as de facto evidence for i.d. because “it’s too complicated to have evolved by small steps”. Without wasting time, the i.d. people are simply bullshitting. There is a large and clear literature documenting the evolution of blood clotting from invertebrates to lower vertebrates to mammals.
Which is not to say that the clotting literature is easy to understand. It is replete (good word, “replete”, no?) with the arcane nomenclature of protein coding from specific genes on specific chromosomes. I can simplify this for you. Pre-vertebrate invertebrates (animals with a nerve cord analogous to a spinal cord but no cartilage or bones, such as sea squirts) have the appropriate protein production mechanisms without having effective clotting processes. Lower vertebrates (such as the lamprey eel, a primitive fish with a cartilage skeleton) have some components of the clotting process—their proteins have evolved onto the path of clotting. Higher vertebrates—mammals—have the full blown blood clotting mechanisms we know and love every time we slip with a kitchen knife or pair of scissors. Our blood, on exposure to air, thickens and forms a tough layer of protein over the severed vessels, and this layer increases in effectiveness over the first few hours after injury.
And why am I subjecting you to this quirky discussion? Because I saw my doctors this week. Still no cancer visible via camerascope. But, they remain concerned for the large blood clot seen in my lungs in my last CT scan. In response, Cathy gives me twice-a-day injections of anti-clotting drugs, right in the stomach. Word is that it can take many months for a clot like that to vaporize. The risks, of course, depend on whether the clot moves before it’s eliminated. If it shifts to the blood vessels of the brain, it triggers a massive stroke. If it reaches the approaches to the heart, cardiac arrest follows. It’s a dangerous, dangerous thing. When we do the PET scan to look for residual cancer in September, they’ll also do a CT scan with a contrast fluid that will let them look for the clot. If it’s gone, I can forego the tummy injections. That would be nice!
But you know, after the past 3+ years of bodily insult, I take even shit like this with complete calm. I’ve been close enough to death to have seen the dark in the abyss, and the sad fact is we’re all going to wade into it sooner or later. Probably sooner in my case, given my medical history. But not in the immediate future. In fact, though my throat still gets all goopy in the afternoon, and I’m physically weak, I’m definitely recovering. Got the little tiny barbells by my recliner, so I can toss them occasionally during the day to start to build muscle mass. With the gorgeous weather, I’m working on getting out to do some photography walks. In fact, the best results from several trips are appended to the bottom of this entry.
My doctors approved of my attempts to eat ice cream by mouth. In fact, my oncology hematologist wants the “speech therapy” people to evaluate me for eating more food by mouth. I must admit I’m a little befuddled by this. I assume she thinks they can teach me to shove food into my throat, maybe on a stiff wire like force-feeding a dead mouse to a recalcitrant snake. Absent a tongue, I can’t manipulate a food bolus. The only hope I have for getting food down my throat is to tip my head back to make a linear canal between my oral cavity and the rest of my gastrointestinal tract. And hope that on the way down, nothing hangs up on the surgical seams between my GIT and my airway.
But it doesn’t seem to. So I’m improving. Autumn is just around the corner, my time of year. Thanksgiving is coming, and I’m looking forward to having a house full of friends and cooking the hell out of a boatload of food. Life, even without a tongue, is good. I hope the same goes for all of you. Keep in touch, everyone. You’ve gotten me this far, and it sure as hell looks like I’m gonna survive my most recent physical travails, to be verified (hopefully) by PET + CT scans in September. Love you all! PS—for the moment, this is the only piece going up on this weblog empire. Don’t forget to check out Dr. Crossley’s blog at http://www.daccrossley.typepad.com/ .
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