December 3 is a highlighted day on my calendar. First, because it’s my son Luke’s 21st birthday. Yay, Luke! *Throws confetti* But the third is also special because it’s the very last day of the incubation period for chicken pox. Our youngest Matthew had chicken pox a couple of weeks ago.
December 3 was so near that I stopped thinking of chicken pox as a possibility. After all, all the kids had the CP vaccine and all four had CP about 12 years ago. Then, yesterday Ariel showed me her arm. And I saw the spots. Then, she showed me her stomach and her back. And I couldn’t deny it. MORE POX. And then Jacob showed me his stomach and his back. EVEN MORE POX.
When I announced the scourge, Luke fogged the house with Lysol (he’s now the only one of the kids who’s still CP-free). Matthew is concerned that he’s going to get shingles, I’ve explained that having had CP two weeks ago probably would protect him from shingles, but he still carries the bottle of Lysol and sprays every surface that comes into contact with Jacob or Ariel. The scent of Lysol is so strong in the house that I can taste it. Ugh.
What makes this even worse is that both Jacob and Ariel have finals next week. Jake went to class today—he had an assignment due. Ariel emailed her prof and mentioned the CP. I was sure the prof would say, “Don’t come to class.” But her prof emailed back, “I hope you feel better soon. I’ll see you tomorrow at class for the exam.” Um, hello? Can you say contagious disease? I’m sure Ariel’s fellow students were not pleased to see her spotted face. Personally, I belong to the quarantine school of CP containment. But I have a pediatrician whose motto was “You’re just spreading immunity to the community.” Yeah, us and Typhoid Mary.