I went in for a regular infusion appointment today. In place of a purse, I took a large zip-lock bag containing driver’s license, insurance cards, phone, cash, two pens, three sheets of copy paper (used to be typing paper), a package of Kleenex, keys, and hand sanitizer; and a blue pillowcase containing Chromebook, mouse, and Kindle.
The zip-lock bag is my new washable purse. The pillowcase is my new washable tote. They make me feel a bit like Little Orphan Annie.
I also took my cane. Just in case.
After passing the temperature check in the foyer, I tripped over my cane three times getting to the waiting room fifteen feet away, signed in, sat down, and put the zip-lock bag into the pillowcase. It’s easier not to trip over your cane when possessions are consolidated into one faux handbag.
Three hours later, back at home, I tossed my clothes and the pillowcase into the washer and myself into the shower. I used an alcohol wipe on Chromebook, Kindle, mouse, phone, Kleenex, keys, pens, zip-lock bag, and hand sanitizer. I trashed the copy paper. I disinfected cane, door knobs, light switches, and bathroom. I dumped driver’s license, insurance cards, and cash into a drawer rarely opened, where they’ll be quarantined until I need them, probably three weeks from today, when I go back for another round of drugs.
Here’s the thing:
It’s like, once upon a time, people took a shower and then went to the doctor.
Now, they take a shower and go to the doctor, and then go home and take a shower.
Everything is upside down. And boring.
Kathy Waller 