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Sick Days

My mom's comment last night made me remember my own bout with chicken pox. First, sorry, Mom! I remember we were all sick at once (and that I was the first one to catch it) but I didn't remember it took us so long to get better. I do remember that I was sick on my birthday (my 7th), that my grandma brought me popcorn (I don't know why), and that I was so spotty that I was scared to look at myself in the mirror. Oh, and that Jana brought some schoolwork home from me and one worksheet was about syllables and it took me forever to understand. I'd been reading for two years already but I guess I'd never noticed that some words were longer than others.

I also remember getting strep throat a lot, and that the whole family had to get shots of penicillin each time I did. Am I remembering that right? Because that sounds kind of weird. I don't think that happens nowadays -- the random shooting up of antibiotics, I mean.

My most memorable sick day, however, was in fourth grade. I woke up with a stomachache that mysteriously disappeared once everyone else had gone off to work and school. I had the whole day in front of me so I did what any 10-year-old would do: I decided to read a book. I selected one that had intrigued me when my mom had read it: Comes the Blind Fury by John Saul.

That book scared the crap out of me. It's about a blind girl named Amanda who gets pushed off a cliff by some hooligans and then her spirit comes back to wreak revenge, and there's some creepy doll and a bloodstained carpet that won't come clean. I read it straight through in six hours and when I was finished my stomach really did hurt. I not only put it back on the bookshelf, I crammed it behind a stack of other books in an attempt to contain its evil essence. For at least a year afterwards I added this postscript to my nightly prayers: Please God, don't let Amanda get me tonight.

That was a good sick day.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I don't mean to laugh at your poor, scared 10-year-old little self, but how hilarious! The prayer is what got me. I almost shot water out of my nose (teach me to be drinking while reading your blog!)

Anyway, sorry your girls are sick. I told Noah and Rhett that Mallory has the chicken pox and Noah said, "Cool! I love chicken pox! I want some!" And Rhett said, "No, Noah, that is when you have bumps. You get them from the bathtub." Huh?

And I don't remember the shots of penicillan but it wouldn't surprise me. I am now allergic to that, so I wonder if all those shots and doses when I was sick had something to do with it.
Anonymous said…
Nothing says "scary" like evil dolls. That book actually sounds kind of cool. And as far as chicken pox go, I think so far we've gotten off pretty easy. Despite Mallory's bumps (which aren't as numerous as they could be), she's feeling okay. Poor Phoebe is what was bothering me, but she seems back to her sweet self. When I got chicken pox, it was during my First Communion when I was 7, and I remember having to go to church with my suit and clip on tie, feeling awful and covered in bumps.
H Noble said…
I used to love reading scary books when I was younger. I read about 30 of the Fear Street books (not great literature, but what can I say?). Now, I'm so afraid of the boogie man that Justin has to look behind the shower curtains and check the closets sometimes. And don't even think I'm letting a hand or foot hang over the side of the bed! I'm serious.
H
Anonymous said…
Thanks Krista! I wish I could have breakfast with you--any day I would want to!

How is everyone feeling? Over the pox yet?

aimee

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