"Hi, my name is Catherine." "Hi, Catherine."

Support groups aren't really my bag. When I was in college, Mom suggested I go to Adult Children of Alcoholics so that I wouldn't wind up with a drunk husband and a boatload of unresolved issues thanks to Bio Dad's "likey the drinky" parenting style.

Instead, I read books about it and married a nice Jewish boy who never touched the stuff.

However, now that I'm faced with a dwindling platelet count, I'm thinking an ITP support group might be good for me. Especially if the group meets online and I don't have to sit in a room with strangers, donuts, and bad coffee.

They might help me find a productive way to deal with mood swings that come from frightening scenarios and nerve-wracking blood draws. Full disclosure: I might act like watching them draw my blood, spin it, and read numbers lower than George Bush's approval ratings doesn't bother me, but that's all it is, folks.

An act.

ITP support groups might help me come up with a creative way to hide bruises from loved ones and friends without feeling like a victim of domestic violence. I just don't want them to worry...

And what's up with platelet-boosting herbs and potions? Do any of them actually work?

I've already been contacted by a few people who've had loved ones with ITP. But did you catch that key word - had? No offense, mourners, but I'd like to talk to people who are actually *living* with this disease.

Cause survivors are hot. Victims are not.

I know that I don't have it as bad as some and I certainly don't want to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I'm just trying to deal the best way I know how and sometimes I don't think I'm dealing well at all.

The other day I cried about the Rays beating the Sox. Who does that? Outside Massachusetts, I mean?

A healthy dose of hope and solution-based therapy is what I need - support groups might be my bag after all.

Fingers crossed, peeps.