You know the hours of operation of every grocery store, shopping mall and restaurant and when they are the least busy so that you can avoid as many people on your outing as possible to reduce the risk of infections.
You wish that there were disposable pediatric respiratory masks that DIDN'T have Disney Characters on them but you use the Disney ones anyway because at least they do the job. (Even though you hate brandification.)
Your two year old starts rubbing his hands together whenever he sees a bottle of hand sanitizer.
Your child is prone to flashing people to show them his "Boob" which just happens to be his V.A.D. bump.
You contemplate dressing your child up as Frankenstein for Halloween due to some really awesomely placed surgical scars on their neck.
You carry EMLA cream and tegaderm patches as well as a digital thermometer with you everywhere you go.
You hear I.V. poles beeping in your sleep even when you're not in the hospital and all you can think about is rolling over to press the "silence" button.
You call your kid a cyborg with absolute love.
You call your child a vampire with absolute love, although if he truly were a vampire he'd be fat due to the vast amounts of blood consumed.
You think pictures of your child WITH hair look kind of strange and even a little fake.
Your routine when you go into a restaurant is to make sure that absolutely everything that your child will come into contact with is wiped with rubbing alcohol. Forget the highchair, you bring your own whenever you can.
Your kids don't even blink at taking their meds.
When people launch into the "My baby is developing better/faster than yours." competitions you reply in the very next breath that your child glows in the dark. Even better, you don't even laugh when you say that.
You reward yourself for not screaming "No, it's because you're a dirty nasty walking infection risk and I bet you don't even wash your hands after going to the bathroom." at the person that audibly assumes that your child is dangerously contagious because they're wearing a face mask.
You proudly tolerate all of the people making snarky comments about the lengths of your non-hair-challenged BOYS' hair and you secretly enjoy the contrite looks on their faces when you offhandedly remark that those same boys with the long hair are growing their hair because they want to donate it to kids with cancer. (Okay, so one of them also wants to look like Princess Leia, but nobody needs to know that!)
You have shaved your head even though you look horrible with a shaved head, just to raise money or bring awareness.
You no longer see Doctors as any sort of authority figure and will fire/order them about as necessary because THEY work for YOU.
You have held it to the point of considering wearing diapers due to the lack of non-chemo patient washrooms within range of your child who won't let you out of their sight. And you've done this for weeks or months while living on ward.
You haven't said "Nothing, what's wrong with yours?" to the people who have asked what's wrong with your stroke survivor child's face. But you kinda wish you did.
You have dealt with the terrible twos and 'roid rage. At the same time.
Your idea of "me" time involves having a nice hot bubble bath with candles and a nice book- and your toddler sitting in their bath seat in between your legs. The bubbles at least muffle the splashing/playing sounds so that you can pretend you're alone for a few minutes.
You spent over $8000 on cafeteria and medical visit related food and expenses in the last year and those are just the receipts that you can find in order to declare.
You're an old hat at heli-ambulance transport and the pilots/EMT's remember you and don't even bother telling you the procedures because you know.
You enjoy looking at your kids' brain scans because they're so cool. Especially when they can do ultrasounds through the fontanel while it's still there.
You don't get what the heck people are whining about when they talk about their epidurals.
You absolutely expect to be arrested for beating up the next person who officiously says "Oh, well leukemia/treatment of leukemia is NOTHING nowadays."
You've sat with your child through minor surgeries, bone marrow biopsies and lumbar punctures and you feel less squeamish about those than you do about your kid cutting himself through normal activities.
You're a notorious medical supply thief and you know which nurses to enlist in helping to liberate the more obscure things.
Your kids lecture complete strangers when they cough or sneeze improperly. (It's in the elbow/armpit people!)
Even though you are AP you prefer that your child ride in their stroller, because at least then you can use the plastic rain shield as a barrier from other people- even indoors- when it's not even raining outside.
You will nurse your child until he's ten if that's what it takes to keep him infection free and give him all of those lovely anti-cancer proteins. And you'll proudly do it in public too!
You will freely laugh at yourself for still being an no/delayed vax. parent with toxicity being at the topmost of your list- even though your kid is has been on practically every purposefully cytotoxic drug under the sun.
You worry about how many times you should be rinsing your cloth diapers to ensure that the rest of your family's laundry won't glow in the dark.
You absolutely do not fear a future diagnosis of cancer in yourself even the least little bit. And you kinda want to raise your eyebrows at adults that make such a big deal of their own diagnosis when the kids don't even bat an eye.
You know who your real friends and family are and it's the people you never would have imagined could be so wonderful that actually are.
Your kid owns more hats than you do shoes, and you've paid more for a single hat than what you've ever shelled out on a pair of shoes for yourself.
You absolutely thank the T.V. gods for their wonderous gift of isolation ward friendly entertainment and the catatonic state that entertainment induces. (You also eat a heck of a lot of crow for being when of those "No T.V. until at LEAST 2." parents beforehand.)
You treasure every minute. Every. Single. One.
I know I'll think of more... I REALLY like this thread!