A Public Service Announcement From Girlbert

Despite all my best efforts to stay unexposed and rested up, the chemo and radiation have supressed my immune system enough that I have a pretty good chest cold.  No worries (or temperature, which can be a biggie for a person in my condition), though, I seem to be clearing it out, and should be over it in no time at all.  Longer than the average person, obviously, but I'm on the up and up.

But my docs want me wearing a mask on my face in public, (the better to cover the steroid fat-face and acne, I say!), hand sanitizer in my back pocket, and be really cautious.  As in, do you really need to go into CostCo today?  Probably not...

But we did have some health and banking-related errands to do yesterday, so I got to get out of the car and go into some places.  And you wouldn't believe the looks!  One of my favorite stops was to the bank for a deposit, and walking in wearing my hat, sunglasses and mask - you should have seen all the teller's faces!  They asked, "Can I help you?" through some very intense looks and gritted teeth...fun!  
"Just need to make a deposit," I said, taking my sunglasses OFF (sheesh) and digging through my purse.  They remained ready to push that button.

I did notice that every other person I came across did a double take, but I'd have done the same (and probably have), in the past, never thinking there are people out there with compromised immune systems that have to be really careful during cold and flu season, not to mention this swine flu thing.

But here's the cake:
Toward the end of our afternoon errands (we'd already deposited Mom at the airport, so SAD to see her go - such a good time with her!), we decided to pull over at a coffeehouse on State Street and let me run in and get a couple of cups of hot tea, Boyfriend staying in the car.  So I pulled my mask on, hopped out and opened the coffeehouse door to THE. DIRTIEST. LOOK. EVER.  The dirty look was shot by a customer who'd turned from the counter to watch me step inside.  I smiled through my mask, he was probably unable to see it.  He turned away, finished paying, the woman he was with standing off to my other side, waiting for their order.  Then he turned back to me.  

"ARE YOU CONTAGIOUS?"

With what, the swine flu?  Like I'm just walking around with the swine flu?  'Cause I heard they all can't get out of bed, or are in the hospital.

 "Actually, I'm a cancer patient, and the chemo and radiation is suppressing my immune system, so I'm wearing this (pointing to my mask) to prevent myself from being exposed to anyone else who might be carrying something."  Like yourself, sir.

"Humph," he frowned and walked past me.  

My eyes followed, and the woman he was with looked  ABSOLUTELY. MORTIFIED.

I turned back to the counter, and all the teenage coffee shop workers behind the counter were significantly wide-eyed with disbelief at what they had just witnessed.  In unison, "What can we get you started?"

"A cup of chamomile, and a cup of jasmine tea, please."  

That was some yummy tea.