Skip to main content

Day 11 -- Do I feel warm to you?

Write about a question that looms large in your mind right now.


I don’t know how large it looms, but it’s kind of hanging upside down like a vampire bat in the belfry of my aching head, ready to suck any excess energy I might have.

The question: Is my kid sick?

I swear, my fears have nothing whatsoever to do with swine flu. And I’m not being a hypochondriac. Honest. Nevermind that I did the one thing doctors tell you never to do. I googled. So sue me. I typed in Henry’s symptoms...and my imagination ran wild.

It all started with his rosy cheeks. He gets them now and again, bright red spots on each side of his cherubic face. Usually, it’s a sign he’s overheated himself, running and screaming and jumping off high furniture. But Sunday it was accompanied by splotchy red spots all over his forearms. He said they didn’t itch or hurt. He didn’t have a fever (I checked, despite his insistence that he was FINE, MOM).

Several sites on Google diagnosed him: Fifth Disease. I’d never even heard of it before. It sounds odd and exotic. Really, it’s simply a virus that, in kids, is mild and has no treatment and will go away on its own. I hear that it’s somehow related to measles and that adults who catch it run a fever and develop very painful, swollen joints.

The next day...splotches are all gone. No worse for wear. He probably just developed a heat rash. Except that now I’m obsessed about my own skin and various pains. Am I sick??!

But that’s a large, looming question for another day.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.