JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SEE THEM, DOESN'T MEAN THEY'RE NOT OUT TO GET YOU

I've always been a bit of a mysophobe. I fear germs. I see them everywhere; like that kid who sees dead people. It's become worse. I no longer go to movie theaters because I know the person behind me is host to Influenzavirus A through C. If I have to use a public bathroom I do it Madonna style. I wash my hands with OCD frequency. 

Having Chemo takes your phobia to a pathological new level. Your immune system is low. You can't fight germs. You can barely insult them. Your little, white blood warriors have met their Waterloo. And so you have to avoid germs like The Plague. Literally. 

The days following my first Chemo infusion I steered clear of all public places. To me restaurants became Bird Flu hubs; Supermarkets were cesspools of Pulmonary Tuberculosis. Even my kids scared the hell out of me. Because let's face it, kids aren't the most hygienic of people. And, even if you could bathe your kids in sanitizer, you know their friends are still having a jolly good nose pick and then playing clapping games with yours. 

Of course you can't put yourself into a plastic bubble. Although, I did buy those face masks you saw on TV during the H1N1 lets-have-fun-with-the-phobic crisis. Sooner or later you have to venture out. Lucky for me there's that Neulasta shot. It actually elevated my white blood count. So now I have more than I need. Way more. There's a partaay in my body and the white blood cells have invited their whole disease-brawling posse. It's like the Jersey Shore in there, a fight a minute. And I'm all for it. I can go out. I can eat food prepared by someone who may or may not be wearing gloves. I can pump gas. I can handle money. Best of all I can kiss my kids and husband good night. 

Unfortunately white blood cells have a short life-cycle. A partying lifestyle will do that to one. So I'm taking advantage of my Superwoman powers while I still have them. And no evil, viral, fungal or bacterial pathogen is going to take that away from me.  

EXIT THROUGH THE PINK RIBBON GIFT STORE

Yesterday my mother and I went on a tour of the Cancer Ward. Our guide was a nurse, dressed in the appropriate nurse tour-guide outfit: scrubs. I must say as far as tours go, I've had worse. She politely pointed out all the major attractions and points of interest. "This is the pharmacy." Aaah yes, never would have guessed had it not been for the big sign across the window that says PHARMACY. "This is the waiting room." Take a picture Mum. "Would you like a glass of water?" Hear that Mum? We get a free glass of water. Only gripe is the plastic glass does not have any pink ribbon promotional branding and thus cannot be used as a gift. 

Then the fun part of the tour ended. We were ushered into a small room for Chemo 101. Basically Chemo 101 is an hour-long, 4D, interactive experience that will scare the shit out of you. You're given page after page, brochure after brochure of really, really, asteroid is hitting in 10 minutes bad news. Firstly she tells you which Chemo drugs you're getting. I'm getting a lovely cocktail of Taxotere and Cytoxan with some Neulasta as garnish because they can't stick a cocktail umbrella into your Chemo port. Nurse Psychopath then explains all the side effects. I will lose my hair, be fatigued, have nausea and vomiting, poor appetite and/or weight gain. I may have swelling, mouth sores, constipation, diarrhea, black poop, red wee, nail fallout, anemia, Chemo fog, infection, bleeding, pain and blood clots. I am to avoid crowded places, spicy food and my weekly pedicure. But you know what I won't have...Cancer. 

Shell-shocked we're taken to the main part of the tour. The actual Chemo ward. "This is where the magic happens" smiles Nurse Gladitsnotme. Okay she didn't really say that, but you could tell she's been dying to. She points out The Chair by Lazy Boy. The IV Pole by Big Medical Business, The Visitor Chair by Chemo Rooms To Go and the Fluffy Sock by unknown artist. Fascinating. 

Our tour ends with Nurse Sunshine bidding us farewell. "Comeback soon y'all." Yes we'll be back. Thursday to be precise. But only because our camera phone dies and we really, truly want a shot of The Fluffy Sock.