Cancer and the Tattoos

Well here I am. I am halfway through the treatment part of the journey. First there was surgery and recovery from that; and now I'm moving on to the radiation treatment phase. 

Last week I had four tattoos placed on me that will allow the radiation to pinpoint with accuracy, exactly where we want the treatment. Now it might sound like a lot when you say I had four tattoos in one day however, these are the tiniest little pinpoint tattoos you'll ever see. Check the picture and keep in mind this is a blown up version. Nevertheless, that didn't stop me from boasting to my sister that I got four tattoos in one day. 

She laughed her head off when I showed them to her because she has multiple tattoos and has been after me for years to get one. She asked if I would bite the bullet now and get an actual tattoo. I said of course not. I still hate needles and I had a hard time even with these four pokes.

I'm more than a little bit nervous about the radiation part. I know it doesn't hurt so that's one thing, but I worry about side effects and reactions to those side effects. Not much I can do about it except move forward and deal with it as it comes. Since the treatment takes place in a city that's almost 3 hours drive away from me, I will be staying in a hotel near the hospital for the duration, only coming home on weekends. This hotel is set up with several rooms for cancer related treatment patients, includingg subsidized costs. There are two-bedroom suites and shared bathroom, kitchen, and living room. I just don't really care for the idea of basically living with a complete stranger. I'm sure they're not thrilled with it either. It is what it is. 

I start in 2 days and find myself giving thought to what to bring. Clothes of course, and books of course, but I also plan to bring a crochet project that I have had on the go for over a year. I had planned to finish it long ago, but over the past year I found I could not sit for very long without pain and discomfort.  As my actual treatment is only going to take about an hour out of my day when you add in the short shuttle trip to an from the hospital, I will have many empty hours. To put a positive spin on this, I will be able to focus on this project without worrying about anything else. 

After the radiation series, there is a weeks-long recovery.  The oncologist says I might be able to start a gradual return to work by December.  In the meantime, my passport should be arriving soon.  I plan to take some time for me and hopefully go somewhere next year sometime.  

Resilience... more than just a word

I have always been pretty resilient. To me it means the ability to bounce back, roll with the punches, and generally just able to wing it when necessary. I have never needed to be more resilient than I have in this past year. 

First I hit a big deer with my car, totaled my car, had weeks and weeks and weeks of physiotherapy to the able to move again like I had prior to the accident. My sister-in-law, who was in the late stages of her cancer, passed away in early spring. I had to be there for my family and be the resilient one. Not too long after that, with ongoing consistent abdominal pain, I received my own cancer diagnosis. It was a bit of a gut punch. I had to suck it up pretty quick because I needed to be able to focus on the next steps right away. 

Now, surgery behind me by about 5 weeks, I face the next step in the process. This starts with a CT scan to pinpoint exactly where the doctors want to focus for radiation treatments. In all, they plan to administer 25 treatments. This will be over the course of approximately 5 weeks  as I will go daily, Monday to Friday, for treatments, except holidays like Thanksgiving in which case they extend the treatment by a day to compensate. 

It's going to be a true test of resilience. Not just because of the actual treatments, but because I will be away from my family for so long, only able to see them at weekends or if they come to visit me during the week. We live in a fairly small town area, so while our local large hospital does offer chemotherapy treatments, it does not offer radiation. I think this brings me to my next life's work moment. 

I am going to reach out to the CEO at the hospital and open a dialogue on how we make this Hospital a Radiation Treatment Centre. For myself, a trip to the radiation centre I need to go to is a 370 km round trip. Many people in our area would have an even further commute than that. Now bear in mind, it's not a daily commute but rather, it is a trip down on Monday and a return trip on Friday for me. Fortunately, there is a hotel near the hospital that is set up to cater to cancer patients. Two bedroom suites are shared by two patients, with a joint living area, small kitchen, and bathroom. Not only that, meals are included for the patients and it's priced way below what you would expect. Thank goodness. Not just me but I'm sure many people wouldn't be able to afford it otherwise. 

This picture of the camp bracelet I got from Tim Hortons this year. I usually buy a bracelet to support Camp day. This year I asked simply for a blue one and this is the one that was handed to me. I found out later that this was actually from last year's stock and not one of this year's bracelets. It was meant to be.

So it'll take a little resilience to manage the separation from my family over such an extended period. But I've got this. And at the end of it all, the grand prize of being rid of cancer.

The Saga Continues

It's hard to know where to even start.

The surgery went really well; I had minimal pain while in hospital, and this continued at home. It just so happened that this past weekend I had some wound care with the Home Care folks. The nurse felt that I was developing an infection in my incision and so she recommended I go to emergency and get some antibiotics. That night I had my husband take me to the ER. 

As luck would have it, the doctor on call happened to be the same one that blew me off back in April when I first went to the ER complaining of persistent, ongoing abdominal pain. He had poked and prodded and then asked why are you even here. I replied, "because you guys have all the great diagnostic equipment - let's use some of it!"

Nope. In the end he sent me home saying he would recommend me to a gastroenterologist for gas or some such, despite my insistence that it was not gas. Here I am over 3 months later not having ever heard anything about an appointment for this referral. Good thing I was persistent and kept going back until a doctor ordered some tests and lo and behold we found cancer. 

So in emergency on the weekend when this doctor came into my cubicle, before I even let him examine me I said to him that I needed him to take this very seriously. I reminded him of our previous encounter and told him that I had had surgery to remove cancer from my abdominal muscle only 10 days before this ER visit. To give the doctor his credit, he actually apologized. Because I had gone in not just due to the infection, but because of some difficulty breathing, he ran a barrage of tests. It also so happened that the doctor who took over after his shift ended, was the doctor who had seen me in May and ordered tests that led to the discovery of my tumor and subsequent surgery. I was quite pleased to have the chance to thank her after I reminded her of our previous encounter. She was happy to hear that I had been able to obtain services and surgery fairly quickly and wished me well.

On Monday, I had a follow-up appointment with one of my surgeons. You see, I actually got the two for one deal on my surgery. The oncologist removed a 5 inches of the abdominal muscle, and then a general surgeon placed a mesh to help support the spot where the muscle had been. This included placing a drain, and the drain stayed in and came home with me. At my follow-up the doctor removed the drain. What a relief that is because it was really annoying to have to haul it around everywhere because it was attached to me, and try to sleep comfortably, etc.

After having had the drain for so long, I find I'm still looking for it or feeling for it at times. There is a gaping hole about the size of your baby finger in my side still but it's closing, although it is still oozing a bit. I was going to include some wound photos but that might be a little graphic for some people so nope. 

In the meantime, my son went for his driving test and is now a licensed driver. Yay for him! This morning I added him to our insurance which fortunately, is only going up about a hundred bucks a month. That's not too bad for a new driver.

So I'm home, recovering, with virtually no pain. However, I am getting bored. I am allowed to drive, but still restricted from lifting and twisting like if I were vacuuming or something. They did give me a prescription for some narcotic pain relief, but I told them I wouldn't need them and I haven't. 

As of today it has been two weeks since my surgery, and I feel fantastic. I have a follow-up with the oncologist at the end of August. At that time they should have the results from testing the tumor and should have figured out a bit more about the cancer itself, and ongoing treatment options. The surgeon has already indicated that I will very likely have some kind of radiation. I'm not sure where that treatment will be, either London or Kitchener I imagine. Perhaps it's time to start lobbying the Owen Sound Hospital to increase their cancer services to include radiation and not just chemotherapy. I think I found my next calling.

Let the Healing Begin

In the pre-op yesterday it was pretty crazy to know I had no less than three anesthetic people try to convince me to have an epidural or the self-administer narcotic pain relief pump. I kept declining until with the last one I got angry and just said they would have to trust me to know what I need and that if I needed a boost I would let the nurse give me a shot. So they finally stopped bothering me and so far I'm fine with the Tylenol. Pain on waking was about a 6 and dropped to about a 2 by 8:00 pm.  

In the pre-op they had to put on the IV needle in my hand. The nurse missed the vein and the pain was so bad I jerked my hand away from her. I wouldn't let her try again so one of the doctors simply said they would do it in the OR.  A little later there was a visit from the anesthetist and he was actually able to put it in with a lot less trauma. 

Unfortunately, even though I was awake and alert fairly early at 2:00 pm, my room wasn't ready. When the occupant finally left around 5:00, I had to wait for it to be cleaned. I was so ready to be in my room I told the nurse to let them know I was willing to come help clean if it made it go any faster.  When they finally got me to my room at 7:00pm I was starving. There isn't any food allowed in the post-op so all they could offer me there was Popsicles. On getting to my room the nurse made some toast with peanut butter for me as a snack since I had missed dinner. My roommate was hungry too and also asked if she could have some, so we both nibbled toast with peanut butter.  My family brought some Wendy's for me and I devoured it.  

I was awakened a few times in the night as the nurse had to take my vitals - blood pressure, temperature, check my bandages, and pain level. I'm doing okay. My vitals have been good and the pain is very very okay. For the most part it has been almost nothing as compared to the increasingly terrible pain I lived with for the last few months! Any pain I do have now is healing pain and it will be diminishing every day.

Today the food comes regularly. Cheerios and a cranberry muffin for breakfast, with tea and OJ.  There was yogurt, but I don't care for that so they took it away.  Lunch was a little cheese omelette with some veggies and a few potato wedges. There was more tea and some cranberry juice, as well as jello pudding for dessert. And I mean actual real jello pudding, not the no-name knock-off stuff.  I ate every bite.  

I have been up for a couple of accompanied walks along the corridor and they want me up at least once more today.  Walking to and from the bathroom doesn't count.  I'm drinking lots of water and no longer feel so completely parched.  I also sat up on my chair a couple of times for a while and was even able to wash myself somewhat. No shower allowed as yet with a drain and of course dressings, so a kind of self sponge bath was accomplished with the psw on standby in case I felt faint or sick.  It felt good to get my own nightshirt on afterwards instead of a hospital gown.  

The doctor is pleased with my progress and I just might get out of here on Saturday.  Yay!

One really funny thing you might want to know...I now know exactly how my groceries feel.  The hospital wristband has both a QR code and a bar code on it.  When they do blood work they scan the bar code. When they bring meds or take vitals, they scan the QR. In the case of meds, their cart is an electronic work of art. The scanned QR code allows a small compartment to open and there are my assigned meds. The nurse puts them in the wee little cup like you get your ketchup in at Harvey's, and hands it to me.  

The nurses and PSWs have been great. I'm at Victoria Hospital in London, Ontario and have been receiving fantastic care. One of my doctors has been in twice and my main surgeon once so far today. Both are pleased with my progress and so am I.  

Keep sending those positive thoughts.  In five weeks or so, when I'm pretty much healed, then I will start radiation, and that will be a whole new adventure.  In the meantime, stay tuned.  I believe all the positive energy has helped so far.  Love to all. 

The Countdown is On

It took a fair amount of persistence on my part to get here.  Thankfully I kept on returning to the emergency room until I got some tests done and at least reached a diagnosis.  

I'm so glad that my surgery is tomorrow.  Each day the pain seems to be worse, and this thing inside me is definitely growing.  It interrupts my sleep so that I probably get about 4 to 5 hours per night in total.  When I do sleep, I dream horrible things like that the tumour is the size of a canteloupe instead of the golf-ball to lime size it is.  

The current surgical plan is to remove a section of the abdominal muscle.  Not this past weekend, but the weekend before, I had a CT scan.  I know I already had one before, but that one was more to just determine that Yes, there is something there.  Based on that scan and the following biopsy, a new, more complete CT scan was ordered.  Several things happened while I waited for that appointment.  

Since I had already had cancer back in 2021, that surgeon regularly monitors me.  She had gone off on maternity leave and at my last appointment I saw her practice partner instead.  That was in January or so.  She indicated at that time she would see me in six months and we'd schedule a scan to make sure all was well.  That appointment was coming up soon and while I was still dancing with the doctors at the ER trying to get someone to take me seriously and do something, I actually called that surgeon's office to see if we could move my appointment up a bit.  I just knew they'd do something for me.  They couldn't move it but I did decide to keep the appointment.  Just before that appointment was due, and as a result of the biopsy, I ended up scheduled for the complete CT scan. This scan ended up being scheduled for 2 days after my upcoming appointment with my original surgeon.  I finally ended up with a surgeon in London, Ontario who said I should keep the appointment for the CT scan here in my local hospital because to wait for them to have time to put me in would only delay the surgery.  

In the meantime, my first surgeon returned from maternity leave a few days a week before coming back full time this month.  She was reviewing files and happened to notice correspondence from the surgeon in London.  I had listed her as one of my doctors on their forms because she was the only doctor with knowledge of my cancer history and I figured she'd want to know anyway.  So she called me up and asked, "What the hell's been going on?"  I told her the whole story, lamenting the fact that my former family doctor had closed her practice about 2 months after my last cancer surgery and that me and all her other patients ended up orphaned.  An hour later, as I was driving home from work, my phone rang and it was her again.  She told me that she had reached out to a colleague at the local medical clinic to ask if they knew any doctors taking patients and she explained my situation.  I had to pull over to write some information down because she then told me the doctor said, "I'll take her."  Hallelujah!  I got a family doctor!  Not only that, but when I went for an initial meeting and discussed how my previous doctor had orphaned my family, the doctor said they'd take my husband and son too.  And just like that, after 18 months or so, we all got on with a new family doctor.  

The day after I met my new doctor, I had my CT scan and they said they'd forward the result to my doctor in a few days.  Thrilling words "my doctor".  

The CT scan was not as pleasant? smooth? easy? as the last one.  The technician was not good with the IV and it hurt throughout the experience.  Still, it was one more thing to check off on the list.  I called my doctor's office a few days later to ask that they make sure the results are also forwarded to my surgeon.  A while later they called to confirm they had sent the results to London and then told me that the scan was clear.  Except for the cancer we already know is there, they didn't find any other cancer.  I'm still afraid to believe it, but it's very very hopeful news.  

As it happens, though, I do have some really positive feelings about the upcoming surgery.  Any pain will be healing pain and will diminish with time.  As I have said before, the post-surgical pain can't be any worse than what I'm living with right now.  I will do whatever it takes to get well again.  It so happens that I also had a visit from my late bff in one of my dreams recently.  She didn't speak.  She just walked up to me and we had a long hug.  I thought about it after I woke up and I believe she was offering comfort and reassurance.  I think if things were going to go bad, she would have said something.  It was good to see her.  She doesn't visit me too often and I really needed this.  

Today my coworkers threw a little party for me to wish me well.  We had veggies, charcuterie, chips & dip, and even a cake.  There was a lovely card with a Tim Horton's gift card inside, and even a couple of gifts - a dreamcatcher that says "children matter", and a hair scrunchie, both of which were made here on the reserve.  One of our board members, who I absolutely love (she was on my committee when I was a project manager), also dropped by and had a gift of a kind of small tote bag that she had made.  I'm really going to miss everyone while I'm off.  It's so fantastic to have a job you love and coworkers who truly truly care.  

I probably won't be able to add any more to my blog for a while, but I do promise to provide an update as soon as I can.  Catch you all on the flipside.  

Surgery Looms

As my surgery date rapidly approaches, I feel the weight of everything I have to do ahead of time.  I need to go over work-related stuff with my boss; stuff like how my files are organize on the computer, how to set up a zoom meeting, how to this, how to that, basically how to function without me for a few months.  Then there’s stuff at home like general cleaning, which is just not happening due to a lack of energy and intense pain; and clearing out the basement as our 19-year-old son will be moving down there so he has his own space.  Aside from a sleeping alcove, he’ll have a small living room area where he can have his computer and all his other stuff.  Of course he’ll still hang with us to watch tv and have meals, but it will be good for him to have his own space besides a small bedroom.  Again, though, pain and energy levels have stalled this project as well. 

As far as work goes, who knew there would be so many damn forms to fill out just to have surgery and take short-term disability leave?  And as if there weren’t enough forms for that, there is a 22-page booklet of instructions for preparing for the surgery!  

I’m managing the pain as best as possible with Tylenol and the very rare occasional boost from Advil (which is counter-indicated due to the blood pressure meds).  The pain itself is hard to describe.  Most of the time it’s a constant ache as if someone is pressing on my lower abdomen with the handle end of a knife.  Other times it’s a sudden sharp pain.  Sometimes it gets so intense that it feels like someone took coals from a good fire and just laid them inside me.  And yet other times it radiates right through to my lower back.  These are the times I’m thankful for seat warmers in my car, which I have used even though it’s 28 degrees outside!  Some days I’m able to sit for hours either at work or on the sofa, and some days I can’t get comfortable sitting or laying down, or even standing up.  Overall, it’s bad enough that I truly believe the pain I will experience post-surgery can only be an improvement!  

Initially we had planned for my husband to bring me to the hospital and then leave for home when they take me for surgery.  After thinking about it for a few days, I told my husband I’d prefer to have him there with me for the day until I’m out of surgery and in a room.  Our son is coming too.  This brings me comfort.  I’m scared enough without doing this and them not being there.  Knowing they are will really do a lot for my peace of mind.  The part that does suck though, is having to be awake by 3:00 am or so.  Since we live a handy 3-hour drive from the hospital, we will have to leave home between 4:30 and 5:00 am in order to get there for the 8:00 am check-in.  Surgery is scheduled for 11:00 am and I’m going to be starving by then since I can’t eat after midnight.  Hopefully they’ll have food handy when I wake up.   

 

Where to next?

Well, I guess the next step is the surgery.  Although I had resolved to waiting until mid to late August, a surprise phone call came from the surgeon's office this morning. I'm heading off to surgery on August 2nd.  

That just made it so real.  And scary.  I have so much to do before then.  Unfortunately, plans I kind of had (like going to the Spinrite tent sale) will now have to wait until next year. My husband says I have too much yarn anyway, but what does he know?  

It takes a lot of mental strength to stay focused on positives.  The biggest positive I have is that as of August 2nd the healing will begin.  It's going to be a hell of a ride though.  Be sure and stay tuned and thanks for all your positive thoughts to help me along the way.  

No Dodging the Bullet This Time

Not having a family doctor is really not good.  In January of last year our doctor closed her practice.  She wasn’t retiring or even moving, just not going to do patients any more.  Our local clinic where she had worked, despite having a lot of doctors, did not distribute her patients.  We were medical orphans.  They declined to have a waiting list and indicated they would assign patients to new doctors based on priority need.  So here I sit about 18 months later, having survived cancer once, with thyroid issues, diabetes, and high blood pressure, but apparently I’m not “high need” enough.

Since I don’t have a family doctor, I have to navigate the medical system myself, through the emergency room.  Need prescription refills?  Go to the ER and wait several hours to see a doctor who will write the refill order.  Does the doctor do anything to check my thyroid or diabetes, or even blood pressure to ensure I’m getting the right treatment?  Nope.  Fortunately, I was able to get accepted as a patient by the diabetes nurse practitioner, but her practice is limited to diabetes.  At least I was getting regular blood work done and being monitored for what she could monitor.  For all else…yes, back to the ER. 

In April I went to the ER because I’d been having abdominal pain that wasn’t going away.  Because it was persistent, I realized it was more than possibly gas.  Sitting or standing for any length of time became unbearable. 

So off I went, for a 7½ hour wait.  Unfortunately for me, there was a very social woman in the waiting room.  Because the room was packed, I ended up sitting across from her.  I swear I have a sign or a tattoo on my forehead that says, “talk to me and tell me your life story” because in short order she introduced herself and proceeded to tell me everything.  I didn’t even want to know her name, and in fact had my book in my hand and my reading glasses on.  It didn’t matter.  In short order she showed me her wedding photos (from ten years before), and told me all about the wedding and how her two brothers stood up for her.  I learned her husband served in Afghanistan and that very soon they would be adopting an older girl.  The woman had colostomy surgery the previous month and was there to have it checked. At this point she showed me the cover she sewed herself for the baggie she has to wear.  I had to admire the Disney tattoo sleeve on her right arm and hear all about her plans for the other arm AND check out the pictures of what she wants there.  I discovered she lived in northern Quebec as a kid and that she is now 45 to her husband’s 38.  She had been married previously to an abusive asshole.  The story goes on and on.  I was so relieved when they called her name that I almost didn’t mind another few hours waiting for my turn.  I didn’t want to be rude (I’m too polite at times), but I did try several times to put my head down and start reading.  She just wouldn’t be ignored.  I have no idea why me and not someone else in the room. 

Finally, I was called in and I could have cried with frustration.  The doctor basically blew me off.  He asked where the pain was.  I told him I could feel something inside and I put his hand on the lump I felt.  He proceeded to press so hard I was almost off the table in pain.  He felt all around, on both sides, and then told me it was probably gas.  I assured him it wasn’t.  When he asked why I was there, I told him “because this hospital has all the good diagnostic equipment” and asked him to use some of it.  Instead, he told me he was referring me to a gastroenterologist.  (And here I am three months later having not heard anything about a referral appointment yet!) 

A week later I went back.  This time the doctor was a lot more proactive.  She immediately sent me for an ultrasound, and when the results were available, she ordered a CT scan.  The scan was set for a few days later and I would have to go back to the ER two days afterward to get the results.  More waiting, but at least it felt like something was being done.  On my return to the ER a couple of days after the CT scan, I was told something was definitely there, about the size of slightly larger than a golf ball.  This doctor referred me for a biopsy.  And so, a few days later again I had the biopsy.  

This biopsy was easily the most painful thing I’ve ever had done to me.  It laid me flat for a week.  I mean I was up and about within a day of having foot reconstruction, an emergency c-section, and even a hysterectomy.  I was told the results would be available in 5 to 10 business days!  A week later I tried to reach out to patient records to get my results, but their voicemail box was full and I could never reach a live person.  The good news was I had an appointment with my diabetic nurse practitioner and when I brought her up to date on what had been going on, she called the doctor that performed the biopsy and got the results directly from him.  The bottom fell away when she turned around and told me my cancer had returned.  

If there was any good news in this, she also informed me that the biopsy doctor was going to refer me to a specialist in one of the major cities that is 3 hours drive away from us.  This referral happened relatively quickly and about two weeks later I sat in the specialist’s exam room.  A broader CT scan is scheduled to take place in about two weeks from today, but at this point she believes that I will need surgery to remove a section of my abdominal muscle, followed by a radiation series.  The good news, at this point, is they don’t believe it’s in any of my organs.  The CT scan can hopefully confirm this.  

It is appalling that I had to push so hard to obtain vital services.  A family doctor would have been able to get the process going so much faster.  I remember when I broke my foot, my family doctor (who has long since retired) got me CT scanned fast. He got the results within an hour of the scan, and referred me to a specialist ASAP. I had surgery less than three weeks later.  

Listen to your body.  You know it best.  When someone in the medical field blows you off, but you know something is wrong, keep at it until you find someone to listen and take you seriously. 

You've been numbered

A couple of months ago I was in another city meeting a friend for lunch.  As I waited for her, I took this picture of some graffiti that says, “No Digital ID”.  

I started wondering exactly what kind of digital ID the individual was protesting.  I mean, we have all had digital IDs pretty much since the day our birth was registered.  Don’t believe me?  Check your birth certificate…it has a number.  Check your school records…there’s a student number.  Check your driver’s license…yet another number.  Credit card or Debit card?  Yep, more numbers.  Health card, Social Insurance Number, CAA…all numbers.  Have you got a mortgage or loan?  Have you ever called the mortgage or loan company with a question?  What’s the first thing they ask you?  You bet…”What’s your client (or loan) number?” 

To extend this thinking a little further, the cell phone we all love and carry everywhere…it’s got a number.  Somebody wants to be able to reach you, what do they ask?  They ask, “What’s your number?”  Do you use a computer or laptop?  You may not know this, but your IP address is a number.  Our lives have been so digitalized over the past decades that it’s impossible to function without a so-called “digital ID”. 

Then I started wondering if the protest was more over the government’s insistence on making vaccination status, especially with respect to covid vaccinations, available both on our health cards, but also as a separate downloadable certificate that we were all encouraged to carry on our phones to prove we have been vaccinated.  Nothing has been so polarizing as the whole vaccination issue of the last few years.  While I don’t want to insult a big chunk of the population, I find a close correlation between those decrying the vaccine and their level of – Education? Intelligence? I’m not really sure which is appropriate.  For decades the government has insisted that children be vaccinated for chicken pox, measles, rubella, pertussis, and a bunch of other things in order to attend school.  Nobody ever blinked over this.  However, tell them they should all be vaccinated against covid and they lose their shit. 

For those people, I have this to say:  This is a standard vaccine composition.  Which of these chemicals do you object to having in your body?

        ·         Ethanol
        ·         Propyl acetate
        ·         2-methylpropyl acetate
        ·         Propanol
        ·         n-Butyl acetate
        ·         2-Methylpropanol
        ·         2-Methylbutyl acetate
        ·         n-Butyl propanoate
        ·         n-Butanol
        ·         n-Pentyl acetate
        ·         2-Methylbut-3-enyl acetate
        ·         2-Methylbutanol
        ·         3-Methylbut-3-enyl acetate
        ·         3-Methylbut-3-enol
        ·         3-Methylbut-2enyl acetate
        ·         n-Pentanol
        ·         n-Hexyl acetate
        ·         E-Hex-3-enyl acetate
        ·         Z-Hex-3-enyl acetate
        ·         Hex-4-enyl acetate
        ·         E-Hex-2-enyl acetate
        ·         n-Hexanol
        ·         Z-Hex-3-enol
        ·         E-Hex-2enol
        ·         n-Hextyl-2-methylbutanoate
        ·         n-Heptanol
        ·         Camphor
        ·         n-Octanol
        ·         n-Oct-2-enol
        ·         1-Methoxy-4-(2-propenyl)-benzene

So many of the great unwashed will immediately say, “Nope.  None of that shit for me.”  What they don’t realize is that this is actually the chemical composition of an apple.  It’s living testimony that most people (anti-vaxxers) aren’t qualified to even know what they’re scared of.