Spoiler Alert: With four daughters, I’ve been exposed to too many episodes of S&TC, so I know about the LBD.
This bit of introspection could get a little obscure, but I have lots of new observations lately - all very real to me but not necessarily any more significant.
As I have come to learn, no closet is complete without the requisite LBD (little black dress). Though mine is devoid of this couture necessity, there is an equally important piece of clothing that has become a big part of my Chemo life: the BBD.
The BBD is the big blue dress. It is a fashion-less shroud lacking any flattering lines or designs. And its mysterious artificial "fabric" makes an audible swishing sound when its wearer gets within 100 yards of my hearing. But what a lovely sight and sweet sound it is when it's headed toward me.
You see, the BBD is the protective covering that the Onc nurse wears when bringing the chemo. At one-size-fits-all, it's more like a pup tent with sleeves than an actual dress. Some wear it with style and panache, but most of the more demure nurses just wrap it around themselves three or four times and tie it off. As my mummified nurse in a cloud of baby blue material arrives at my chair (with the plastic bag of magic juice, emblazoned with more toxic warning labels than a super-fund site), all I see is the beginning of the end of my waiting for the day. Wheels down, coming in for a landing, infusion touchdown in sometimes as little as 30-minutes.
Like many things, it's all about perspective. So for me, on clinic days, it's all about the BBD - the perfect fashion statement for this party.
