The Pariah

Last January was spent here. I was really hoping for a different way to kick off 2011.

As always, my hopes are dashed by the reality of being me. Namely, that a simple, quiet life has never been nor will ever be in the cards. Sigh.

The holiday season was very stressful for me. Okay, it's always stressful for me. But this year it was especially so, for various reasons, some of which will not be blogged about because I have been emotionally beaten into a terrified, anxious person who can't bring herself to be vulnerable anymore, some of which won't be blogged about because I don't want you to know. But it was also stressful because it was full and busy, which is what happens when you and your spouse both have divorced parents and are very popular. Anyway, suffice it to say that I was not feeling especially prepared, mentally or physically, to return to work on Monday. It was a hard week. Not really at work--work was good. But I was exhausted, and I easily could have spent the full five days in my pj's watching Teen Mom The History Channel. So imagine my joy when Friday morning my sweet little boy starts screaming bloody murder from his bedroom at 6:45am. I rushed in (he never wakes up crying) to find him face-down on the floor, head under his bed. ????? I pulled him out, comforted him, and set him up on the couch to watch his daily 30 minutes of Toy Story 3. Friday mornings Matt is home with him, so I left for work. A couple hours later I got a text from Matt saying Ben chucked his breakfast. Let me just say there has been entirely too much puking in the last couple of weeks. But I guess you don't know about that because apparently I don't blog anymore. Eh. So I asked Matt if I needed to come home, and he said he didn't think so. So I didn't. Ben was a little off for most of the day and evening, but he showed no more signs of illness. So I guess that was that.

Except that Saturday morning he wouldn't let me put his shoes on because his feet hurt so badly. Which makes sense, considering they were each the size of tennis balls, red, and covered in little white spots. ????? We decided to wait and see what happened before running to the doctor--Ben has really sensitive skin and reacts to everything. The swelling was gone within a half an hour, so we didn't think much more about it.

Except that this morning his body fought back with a vengeance. We went to Disneyland because it's been a while. We were standing in line, almost to the gate to get in, when I looked down and noticed that his hands were the size of tennis balls, red, and covered in little white spots. So was his face. He looked up at me with his sad eyes and said, "Mommy, my tongue hurts." Time to go. We turned the stroller around and headed to Urgent Care. In the car I took his shoes off and noticed that his feet matched his hands and face. He was crying and saying, "all done!" Miserable. All of us. We were racking our brains to figure out what he'd touched or eaten to make this happen.

An hour and a half later we emerged from Urgent Care with a diagnosis of Hand Foot and Mouth Disease.

The news of B's illness has been met with some interesting reactions from some. I am positive it's not intentional, but I can't help but get the feeling that somehow Ben and I appear to be being confused with being the disease, not having it.

Anyway, tomorrow we will quarantine ourselves and keep his disease-infested hands, feet, and mouth at home. Here's hoping this is as bad as it's going to get, and that we can continue our hospital-free streak.

Also, I think we should discuss a change in name for this virus. According to the books and websites and Kaiser, it's a mild, common childhood illness. But the name makes me think it's an infectious disease that only dirty people who put their hands and feet in their mouths get. So can we come up with a name that has a less negative connotation? Like Mild Common Childhood Illness That's Not Really Any Worse Than The Common Cold? I mean, we can brainstorm. But I think it's something to look into.