"The Shower" is an excerpt from CONTAMINATED that gives an insight into the intensity of the symptoms that the author experienced during her illness. In this chapter, the reader is taken inside the mind of the writer and given a fly-on-the-wall view of what she was forced to suffer on a daily basis at the hands of OCD.

My house doubled as both my safe haven and my torture chamber. This was because it took hours of painstaking rituals to remove the infestation from the world around me to achieve a germ free environment. The dilemma now was how to get the perceived contamination from the doctor's office off my body and my clothes so that I could find some peace. Unfortunately, there was a myriad of methodical procedures that had to take place in order to accomplish this goal.

I had mentally and physically choreographed everything I had to do prior to leaving for the doctor's office, so that I was prepared for this ordeal. I took off my shoes at the curb of the street and carried them to the door of the house, leaving them outside on the porch. To open the door I used handy wipes, which I carried with me constantly. I used one to touch the handle of the door and another to hold the key. There was always a can of Lysol waiting for me in the house on the floor next to the entrance. First, I sprayed my hands and the soles of my feet. This made it possible to walk through the house without corrupting the floors. I went immediately to the basement where I stripped naked and put all my clothes in the washing machine. These clothes were too tainted to send to the laundry along with the other clothes that were not as dirty. Actually it was a good day when I could even put the clothes in the washing machine. Many times I would simply throw them into the garbage. If I managed to get them in the washer, I would then Lysol the entire machine. Next I sprayed my hands, my feet, and my whole body, including my face and my hair.

After doing this, I went up two floors to the bathroom, being very careful not to bump into or brush up against anything. The soaps in the bathroom were already lined up in a hierarchal position along the towel rack and the outer rims of the tub. They, like the ones in the kitchen, had been pre-cut into four parts. I had carefully positioned the shower curtain as well, so I would be able to slip past it without any part of it touching my body. In order to close the curtain, I used the only part of my body which wasn't contaminated, my teeth.

After turning the water on, I followed a pattern in order to insure that everything, besides me, was clean when I finished. Start with the "dirtiest" soap, wash body, rinse throw soap into the garbage. Then take the next dirtiest soap, wash body, rinse, throw soap into the garbage. After about four times of washing my body, I would begin to wash my hair, doing this three to four times as well. I washed the shampoo bottle itself between each washing of my hair. When my hair was clean enough to bear, I had to rewash my body because the infected water from my hair had trickled down my skin. I had to repeat the same process as when I first got into the shower - soap, wash body, rinse, throw soap into the garbage. Next dirtiest soap, wash body, rinse, throw soap into the garbage. Everything had to be done in the appropriate order. After 10 to 12 washings, I didn't feel really clean, but at least I was able to tolerate myself.

I still wasn't able to get out of the tub yet. Now I had to wash all the things I felt had been covered with germs in the process. First, I washed the faucet handles. I did this by holding a clean bar of soap in my hand and carefully pouring a mixture of soap and water over them. I counted as I did this to ensure that I had done it enough times. Depending on how "dirty" I was when I had gotten into the shower, I did it anywhere from 40 to over 100 times. Next, I had to spray water numerous times on the inside of the shower curtain. Finally, when everything was clean to my satisfaction, usually 50 to 60 minutes later, I got out. Sometimes, I was forced to stop my shower before all my rituals were completed because the hot water had run out and the physical pain of the cold water was harder to bear than the mental torture of my OCD.

After I got dressed, I resprayed all the parts of the floors in the house I had walked on, even though I had already Lysoled my feet. Then, I sprayed every inch of the bathroom, including the parts I had just cleaned with water. I also wiped down the front door handles and resprayed the top of the washing machine. I did this after each time I washed the contaminated clothes, which was usually three.

When the clothes were done, I got the shoes (even the leather ones) I had worn that day and put them in the machine, washing them three times as well. After this, I went outside and got the hose and started spraying down the walkway and as far out into the street as the water would reach. Going back in the house, I changed my wet clothes, washed my hands at least another half-a-dozen times and then collapsed onto the couch. Since Michael had gone with me to the doctor's that day, I was now obsessed that he would come home and re-contaminate the house. There I sat for the rest of the day in a state of fear and panic dreading Michael's return.