Stalked By A Smell

     So there was this strange phenomenon that happened to me during the first 5 days post-chemo, and I've been trying to wrap my brain around it, even talked with a few people about it, but I'm going to write about it because if it's a thing for me, then it has been or will be a thing for others, I'm sure.  Like I said, one thing I know is that there is nothing unique about me and cancer--sad but true.
     I told you about the dreams--horribly vivid (even without the guest appearance of Scientologist celebrities), extraordinarily lengthy (seemingly), but I didn't tell you that I was graced with Smell-O-Vision in my dreams.
     Now, if this meant that I could smell hot, buttered popcorn, or frying bacon, or a field of flowers, or Coppertone on the beach, that might be a cool thing.
     But this was not that.
     This is one specific smell that invaded my dreams.  All of them.  Over and over and over.
     And it is foul.  Caustic.  Corrosive.  Chemical.  Hideous.
     Definitely not organic.  Like you are rooting around some old shed full of car parts and junk, and you unearth some rust-rimmed jar of viscous mystery yack that you'd slap your kid's hand in a heartbeat if she reached for it.
     And horribly, it evoked some similar smell from my childhood that I cannot for the life of me place. 
     This smell invaded each and every one of my dreams, and each time I smelled it I would desperately try to figure out what is this? And then something horrible would start happening in my dream.  So the smell was the precursor to the dream taking a turn for the worse.  It was the smell equivalent of the suspenseful music in a movie:  Cue the horror!
     So all I can think is that somehow I am smelling my chemotherapy drugs.  In my body.  On my person.  While I sleep.
     My hubs heard me talking about this, and he told me there is a phenomenon called Chemo Smell.  It relates to either the cancer patient themselves manifesting an odor of their chemotherapy or their cancer--eeeeyuck!  Or it relates to a cancer patient's sense of smell being affected by their chemotherapy so that formerly pleasant smells become unpleasant, or they perceive smells that are not actually there (chemo can alter or damage receptors for smell...nice touch, Cancer...thanks).  Because chemo targets fast-growing cells, such as all the cells making up your mucous membranes, it would be reasonable to assume your sinuses might get a little jacked.  So it could be that I reek of chemicals and cancer, and I'm smelling it on me...or I'm only imagining that I'm smelling it on me...but is someone really going to tell me, "Gee, sorry you have cancer, nice to see you and all, but you stink, dude!"
     My dog has been my steadfast pacing buddy this past week, and she has not had a problem being around me.  But my cat has kept his distance until last night when he finally jumped up in my lap.  All I could think was that my cat had been thinking I smelled nasty!
     So I guess I don't really want you to tell me if I really do smell like some Chemical Soup.  I think I'll be feeling more-than self-conscious enough really soon, so I would like to have deniability in the Chemo Smell department if I can.  But talk amongst yourselves, if you must.