Tag Archives: Cleanliness

Hand Washing

A myeloma sufferer nearing their transplant date has many things to worry about. I can say this with the greatest authority, for I am a myeloma sufferer nearing her transplant date.

My greatest worry at the moment is not the 2% mortality rate, the high probability of mouth ulcers and lava like shit or the weight loss. Oh no, my greatest worry is how the hell I am going to remember to wash my hands in my new immune system-less body.

I have been told that I need to wash my hands after I have been out in public or handled money, before I prepare food, before I eat food and apparently after I have gone to the potty. Okay, I knew the last one already, and almost always did it.

In my adult life, I have strongly believed that one should expose themselves to some germs. I thought it made me strong. Sure, I washed my hands after I disposed of my waste or handled raw chicken, but that was my limit. Anticipating a world where I have to wash my hands after I shake somebody else’s does not sound like a fun one.

I am a thumb sucker. I love the comfort I get from it, but it’s not going to taste very nice covered in antibacterial hand wash is it?

Am I going to have to start opening doors with my elbows? Should I wear a mask in public? How much does hand wash cost? Is there a cancer benefit for people who are medically required to wash their hands more? How dry will they get from all this washing? Will I need a bigger handbag to accommodate the hand wash and moisturiser I’ll have to cart about with me? And what if I wanted to taste somebody else’s lollipop? Will I have to buy my own?

I have never licked a door handle, but knowing that I can now never lick a door handle seems unfair. I feel like I have missed out.

It’s a can of dirty worms.

Fortunately, I am pragmatic. If I need to wash my hands like an obsessive, then I will. I have enrolled myself on an intensive hand washing course. Apparently, every time you wash your hands you have to wash between the fingers and the wrist with soap for at least 10 seconds. I will find out whether I passed in June.

Wish me luck. I’m reaching for a First.


Antibacterial hand wash is not a sufficient substitute for soap and water. Medically Trained People are advised to use it twice before washing. True story.

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Yes, this really is a blog about my bed. Cosy, cosy, broken bed.

Last night, I got into my clean bed and settled on down for a goodnight’s sleep. And a goodnight’s sleep was had. I would not have been able to get into my clean bed if it were not for my friends.

It embarrasses me to admit that I do not have the strength to strip and make my bed. I also do not have the strength to vacuum up my shedding mane. Both points are also frustrating. My embarrassment was such that it took me three weeks to ask for help. As with most things, I didn’t ask one person, I advertised my weakness of a social networking site known as Facebook.

The bed stripping is usually done by Mamma Jones, but she has not been to the flat for a while. Essentially then, what I am trying to tell you, is that I have been lying in a pit for the last week. A pit covered in crumbs and an unfortunately positioned chocolate stain on the under sheet .

Yep, I am still talking about my bed. It is amazing what sort of things cause stress these days.

My advert worked. I received three kind offers and accepted one based on geographical distance to the flat, and thus less of an effort to the friend in question. My knight in shining armour came to the flat yesterday evening wearing a deerstalker. My he was dashing. He chivalrously changed my bedding whilst I did my best impression of a back seat driver (I really do have a lot of cushions, it’s a construction).

Hmmm, Lenor.

He then left and I got into my cosy, cosy bed. It smelt and felt so good. In fact, it felt so good, I stayed in bed until 13:00hrs. I am a lazy bum.

I really cannot wait to get back in it. I am making myself wait.


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