So, the theme for this week is Chicken Pox. I’m going to write about chicken pox, dream about chicken pox, eat, breathe and sleep chicken pox…chicken pox, chicken pox, chicken pox.
Let’s ask Sassy how she feels about this subject.
Or, let’s wait until she’s feeling a little more up to it.
It strikes me, between one generation and the next, how completely chicken pox has been striken from our communal memory. My mom had to deal with chicken pox with all 5 of her kids, while I (having the benefit of the vaccine ((or so I thought))) am completely clueless about what used to be a big deal. I didn’t even know what it looked like or it’s symptoms for heaven sakes. Golfer walked around being contagious and infected (Sorry Utah and Idaho) and I had no clue!
It also strikes me how much vaccinations have changed the landscape of womens roles. Today, I can choose between being a SAHM, WAHM, and/or career woman. Back before vaccines, I don’t think it would have been possible to be in any job outside the home full time. I would have spent 3 weeks so far staying home with this latest chicken pox epidemic at my house. That doesn’t even consider the normal cold/flu season, which in turn doesn’t touch the other communicable diseases pre-vaccine that take weeks to mend from. If I’m a mom, say, 35 years ago, I could conceivably spend 3-4 months simply attending to my children while they’re sick from any handful of things.
What do you thing about that, Sassy?
OK, I see you have other things on your mind. I’ll get back to you later.
My days since Friday have been spent being at Sassy’s beck and call. She rarely leaves my side, and has become surprisingly snuggly. We hang out on the couch, under a blanket, watching TV or playing video games. She drinks through a straw or out of a water bottle because she has a nasty pox on her lip that hurst when anything touches it, including a cup. She has little appetite. She does this cute thing whenever she passes by an object, be it a chair, countertop, table, other person…whatever. She sidles up next to it and starts rubbing her pocked little body against it to satisfy the itching need. It’s actually quite pathetic. Her sass has turned into sad little tears. That’s also quite pathetic.
Any last words about your experience so far, Sassy?
I guess not. We’ll just let this last picture tell the story for you.
Oh, the humanity!
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