O.K. again

We are recovering. The first round of chicken pox has finally ended. It wasn’t really any longer than most cases of CP, but it was more severe than I’ve ever personally witnessed.

My oldest daughter had more than 500 pox. For those wise-asses out there who want to know if I actually counted them all – I can tell you this: I quit counting after I found 40 behind her left ear, more than 150 on her back, and more than 100 on her face. Using my very best deduction skills, I knew that if I had found almost two hundred on less than 1/4 of her body, we could safely assume that we had crossed the 500 pock mark.

To be clear, I chose this. The varicella vaccine was one we omitted intentionally, knowing that natural immunity was stronger and longer-lasting than the kind you get in a bottle. What I didn’t expect was that it would take until she was almost 12 before we found a case virulent enough to infect her. She ran a fever of 103 for days. She barely ate, barely slept. She lost about five pounds, which she could scarcely afford to lose. She was brave – and she hardly ever even scratched the pox, in spite of the fact that they itched her to the point where she looked liked an wounded animal. Sometimes she cried, and sometimes she clutched my sweater and said, “Mama, make it stop! Please make it stop!” Those were times when I cried, too. I cried and I rocked her and I told her I was so sorry, I didn’t know it would be that bad.

But it’s coming to a close. Today she’s sitting up on the couch, laughing and playing Life with her dad. She’s so so so hungry and ready to take a real shower and wash her hair. We’ll spend some time today brushing her hair out and going over her missed school work from the week. I’ll probably continue to sigh with relief that it’s finally over and that she seems to be O.K. again.