Silver Linings........

I'm worried I've been on a bit of a negative train lately. Don't get me wrong - the pox isn't something I encourage or think everyone should get. And I don't really think it's some BS growing-experience. In my pox research I've found out that the chicken pox isn't really a common childhood illness anymore - and I think that's ok. I don't think any kiddo is missing out by NOT having this.

I'm definitely going to try to be a little more glass-half-full. I've spent some time brainstorming, and I think there is a total list of positives to this little situation I find myself in.

1. I haven't slept this much since I was a bebe. Seriously, why did we get rid of mid-day naps? Such a quality idea.

2. I've gotten perhaps waaaaaay to caught up on celebrity gossip. My favorite new item; Will.i.am thinks it's tacky if women have condoms in their homes. But would be super weirded out if they did NOT have baby wipes next to their toilets.....hmm. Ok.

3. Some quality reading has happened. Tina Fey's Bossypants is a must read for all ya'll.

4. Playing connect the dots with the pox on my stomach and arm was hilarious. And I think I discovered a constellation or 2. 

5. I really found out who my awesome, excellent friends are. Whether they were bringing me medicine, dinner, homemade cookies or just calling from afar to check in on me, most of my friends really are wonderful individuals!

6. Finally started making a dent in my Netflix queue.

7. Planned a math unit, and part of a reading unit to use upon my triumphant return to work next week.

I still hate the chicken pox, but - they aren't the end of the world. As one of my fantastic coworkers said to me today, 'life happens.' And chicken pox is part of life. At least my life.

xoxo,

PoxGirl

Latest Pox Stage: Anger

Today, I am angry. Yup, who knew anger was a stage of pox recovery?

I am feeling roughly 90% better (scientifically proven by lack of fever, and return of sass). Then I'll look in the mirror and notice a new or steal healing pox (pock?) on my back or something. Angerrrrr.

I really want to be back at work today. It's been 2 weeks since I've been in my home-away-from-home, my classroom, or with my students. I miss them! Spending another week away from them is seeming unbearable - especially since I've taught while feeling super sick before, and I feel fine now. I'm just not at my prettiest. And yes, I know I'm still contagious, but I am pretty pissed to be spending another day stuck inside. 

Then there's the anger of having a substitute in my classroom. The last substitute I had was not fluent in English and actually turned his back on the class to observe posters I had on the wall, according to another teacher who stopped in my room to help out. Every time I leave my class in the hands of someone else, anarchy breaks out. Pencils disappear. Materials are stolen or broken. Fights break out. I did the best I could prior to this week's absence; wrote extensive lesson plans, called a few of my students at home to give them a heads up and let them know what's expected of them, blah blah.

But still. I'm angry that someone else is doing my job for me today while I'm stuck watching Bridezilla's-Figure-Out-What-to-Wear-to-the-Royal-Wedding or whatever crap is on tv. 

xoxo in Anger,

PoxGirl

1 is the Loneliest Number....

While I would never call myself a loner, I am the kind of gal who's ok doing it alone. I moved 600 miles away to college, to a town where I didn't know anyone, where I had in fact only visited once before, and did pretty well with it. I actually enjoy sitting by myself in coffee shops or diners, reading a book, having a cup of tea, blah blah. I prefer most shopping and errand running to be solo events. I'm not a person who NEEDS other people.

I thought.


As it is turning out, having the pox is making me acutely aware of how alone I am. And before you get all worried - no, this isn't going to be some chick-lit-wah-wah-woe-is-me-I-don't-have-any-mans. Because it's not really about having or finding that person. I'm ok with where I am, and for the most part, who I have, in my life. 


But I'm missing human interaction. My grand total of face-time with other humans yesterday was the 30 seconds at the door with the Chinese delivery guy, and a brief convo from 20 feet away with a good friend who dropped off some calamine lotion. And yet, I realize it's not really sensible for others to be around (see guilt, feelings of). I would feel horrible if I gave this to anyone, so the logical part of my brain realizes that it's for the best that I'm not around anyone until I'm cleared by my doctor.


And then, there's the non-logical part of my brain. The emotional part. The part that just wants someone to sit on the couch with me and watch bad daytime tv (because - NONE of it is any good), or make me some soup, or help put calamine lotion on my back. I've been looking at clips on youtube and no one has the pox by themselves (at least not on tv). What I would kill to be suffering through this with Uncle Jesse and Uncle Joey. 

Or, in a much sexier version, to have Dr. McSteamy curl up in bed with me. Or more practically, I'd love a pair of gauze paws!

In terms of my mental sanity right now, I'd say I'm much closer to Callie from Grey's Anatomy, than any of the Tanner clan.

Disclaimer: There is also some hilarious clips of Phoebe from Friends with the pox. But they all include Charlie Sheen. And I refuse. I. Refuse.

I pride myself on being fairly independent, but there are some things a girl, or guy, on her/his own can't do - zip up dresses with the zipper all the way in the back without looking like a fool, lift very heavy furniture, and put calamine lotion on the pox in the exact center of her back. 


xoxo,
PoxGirl

The (misplaced) guilt sets in......

Grace:: What you're feeling are pangs of guilt. 
Karen: What? 
Grace: Guilt. Oh, boy. Ok. How am I gonna explain this one? Uh... guilt is an emotion that - Ok. Jumping ahead. An emotion is something that... 
Karen: Hey, hey, hey. Come on. I know what guilt is. It's one of those touchy-feely words that people throw around that don't really mean anything... You know, like "maternal" or "addiction." 
-Will & Grace




I'm struck by how incredibly guilty I feel about this whole situation. Which is kind of absurd, isn't it? Why am I feeling guilty? It's not like I went on a walk and every time I saw someone cough, sneeze or breathe ran to get all up in their grills. I remind my students zillions of times a day to cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze. I hand sanitize daily after greeting each one of the little germ cherubs at the door each morning. I wash my hands before I eat lunch, and when I get home from work (almost always). I didn't beg or plead for the flight attendant on my Portland-Chicago flight last weekend to place the Canadian-tuxedoed-dumpster-smelling gentleman in the seat next to me - MIDFLIGHT - while I was taking a little napperoo. (I am still curious about this gentleman and why he was moved midflight though.) I don't hang out with crazy mad scientists asking them to use me as their needle push pin and see what fun and exciting Marie Curie turned Mrs. Hyde medical miracles/attrocities we can come up with. Frankly, I don't know any scientists to even offer myself to as a human voodoo doll. I find them intimidating. Also, a little boring.  


So as far as I can tell, I did nothing to put myself directly in the way of the pox. And still, the guilt.


While walking the 2-ish miles home from the doctors yesterday - just to Walgreens to load up on antivirals and Haterade - everytime I passed someone, I felt like I was doing something I shouldn't be. Passing a woman and her baby in a crosswalk? I felt as much guilt as if I had walked into a school with a gun. Or enough treats for only half the class - that's mega teacher guilt.


Then to make matters worse, my sister-turned-roommate is a law student. She has finals in mere weeks. And if you recall the prologue to our lovely story, you'll recall, she too has never been cursed with the pox. So my sister, who needs to be spending all her time studying and going over zillions of flashcards.....not only can't do so in our apartment, but really should probably minimize her time here totally. Luckily her friend is out of town this weekend, so she's crashing at his place. But I feel HORRIBLE about this. 


And STILL - guilt. I feel like I have the opposite of the Midas touch. Instead of everything I touch turning to gold, it's turning to horribleness. I made some soup today for lunch. Opened the cabinet to get a bowl; BAM! - dishes infected. Opened the drawer to get a spoon; ALAKAZAAM! - silverwear infected. Sat at my dining room table to get some work things together; well let's be honest, that table should probably just be kindling now since it's now disease ridden. I walked the 9 flights to the lobby to mail back a Netflix, and took the stairs back up to avoid infecting anyone in the elevator. 


I seriously contemplated spending the next 7-10 days in my room only; to limit exposure to the rest of the apartment/furnishings. But isn't that kind of BS? 


Do other people feel this when they get the Pox? Or are most people so young when they get it they can't comprehend others feelings?  Food for thought.


Extra food for thought: Chicken Pox in/around the ears - horrific.


xoxo,
PoxGirl

Isolation - Day 1. Disbelief. And Inappropriate Reactions.

So, I'd been feeling sicky. Feverish. Achy. You know the drill. Then I notice some weird bumps on my arm and face. I figure that's a little weird, but popping a benadryl will help. What makes this significant from other past illnesses, was I actually went to the doctor - instead of just self-diagnosing with my trusty friend, WebMD. (In the past, it was told me I have postpartum depression - sans baby, rheumatoid arthritis, cataracts, and a slew of various cancers.)


I hop into a cab to go the 2 miles to the doctors, chit chat with the nurse for a while, and then finally see Dr. Hungary (name changed to protect the hilarious, cute, elderly Hungarian doctor from my poor writing). We talk for roughly 1.3 minutes, she takes a glance at my arm, mumbles something about getting a colleague and BOLTS from the room.


Dr. Hungary brings back in what I imagine the doctor at Woodstock looks like, now. He's tall, oldish, with a long white ponytail and a weird "I may still be celebrating 4-20 a day late" smile. Then, out of his pocket, he pulls a Sherlock Holmes magnifying glass, and starts examining my arm. Without touching me.


Long story short - they tell me I have chicken pox. And what's my normal human reaction?


Uncontrollable laughter. What 25 year old get chicken pox?!?! I mean, really. Only me. Completely absurd. Doctors Hungary and Woodstock-turned-Sherlock-Holmes became a bit concerned about my mental health at that point.


I call my mom, I call my boss (1 week off. And I'm actually upset. But that's for another blog post). I decide to walk the 2 miles back, because, let's face it, it's most likely my last time breathing fresh air for the near future.


Of course, every person I pass I start thinking I have infected. At Walgreens waiting for my prescription, all I could think was I was infecting EVERYONE. Talk about some Passover-Jewish/Holy Week-Catholic guilt.


Time for some more anti-virals!


Xoxo,
PoxGirl

Prologue to my MisAdventures

Once upon a time there was a girl. This girl got all sorts of normal childhood illnesses; ear infections, stomach flus, sniffles and sneezes. But - for whatever magical, mysterious reason, she never got the chicken pox. Since none of her sisters got chicken pox, what do you think their parents did?


Spoiler alert: It was NOT put them in contact with others with the chicken pox. Noooo, no chicken pox party for these kids.


Instead, she got the vaccine.


Except, as it turns out, there is a booster dose to the vaccine, which our protagonist happened to forget about.


Until now.


Now, that she's a month away from turning 26, and has found herself with the Chicken Pox.


And with 10 days of isolation (or so) ahead of me, I figured - why not jot down my crazed ramblings in order to perhaps entertain one or two random folks.


xoxo,
Pox Girl


P.S. - No hard feelings Ma and Pa on the lack of childhood exposure!