“Well, I did just happen to bring a spoon for myself,” Shane admitted, pulling a second spoon out of the bag she had brought with her.

“What, are you afraid of my cooties or something?” Dana asked in a mock-offended tone, happy to take the opportunity to lighten her dark thoughts. It was such a relief to finally be able to joke with her friends after days of little or no ability to communicate with anyone.

“No, I just figured one of your scary nurses would shoot me if they saw us sharing germs,” Shane explained, trying to keep her tone light, despite the seriousness of her thoughts. The truth was, despite Dana’s apparent recovery from her infection, the last thing Shane wanted to do was to expose her to any unnecessary risks. After witnessing chemo’s frightening effects on Dana’s immune system, Shane knew that everyone would have to be a lot more careful to minimise Dana’s exposure to anything that might lead to another infection.

Trying to mask her concerns with a joke, Shane added, “besides, Alice has already appointed herself your personal germ guard, and I don’t want to piss her off.”

“I know,” Dana replied, sighing heavily and leaning back on her bed. “She’s already gone into hypersensitive mode with all that. I’m surprised she hasn’t insisted that everyone go back to wearing masks and gowns around me. I get where she’s coming from, but I don’t want everyone to treat me like a sick person just because this happened. I want to go back to the way things were.” Dana frowned as she realised the futility of what she was saying; as much as she wanted to resist it, deep down she knew nothing would ever be the same as before. This sickness was changing everything, and she either had to adapt to it or be swallowed up by it.

“Well, you could always become a bubble person,” Shane suggested dryly, and was relieved to see a flicker of a smile cross Dana’s face. “We’ll just roll you around everywhere you want to go. You’ll save tons of money on gas,” she added, drawing a genuine belly laugh out of her friend.