I must conclude that no one really knew how far to take the defensive strategies. A balance had to be struck between being far too careful and irresponsibility. It wasn't necessary to create a glass-bubble environment, similar to that used in cases where the white blood cell count is zero, because my count was never that low for long. I made it difficult for all concerned, because I hated wearing a mask.
It was with some pride that I was told of the purchase of an airbed, to aid reverse barrier nursing. I showed no real enthusiasm to try the new innovation, and ended up spending only one night below its stainless steel gleam. I imagined that it was like living next to an airport, or a train line. There was a continual drone, as the fan blew streams of filtered air down over the length of my body, partly covered by a ruffled sheet.
It was designed to prevent the entrance of microbes carried on a breeze and, in theory, it was an excellent idea. If the breeze blew over me then out, then few if any germs would come into contact with me.
It was late in 1976 when I slept in this bed. I was a shadow of my former self, and deeply confused. The duty nurse kept me company for hours, talking originally about my fears, but later about music. She showed great interest in my ambition to play drums for a living, and told me about her failed attempt to sing in a band. I really needed to talk to someone at that time.
I was so lucky that she was there.
Now I cannot even remember her name, and I never had the chance to thank her.
It wouldn't have worried me which bed I was in that night. The only infection I did catch was a fairly minor throat infection, some months later.
Fortunately, I had the resources to fight it.
