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
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