Skip to main content

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

Popular posts from this blog

Whew

When they called Pennsylvania, I knew. When they called Ohio, I knew for sure. But I still got chills up and down my spine when they called it for good. And I have tears in my eyes every time I think of his speech. Last night, I attempted to explain to Mallory why this was such a big deal. (This was after a rather undignified few minutes during which she, Phoebe and I danced around the living room chanting Go-bama, Go-bama!) I tried to explain that not so many years ago, black people couldn't even vote, much less become president. She looked at me in great perplexity. She didn't get it. She didn't get racial prejudice. And now...well, it's not that I believe for a second that she and Phoebe will grow up in a world where prejudice doesn't exist. But they do live in a country where, for one election, it was transcended. This is their world now, and their history being made, and I...I'm just elated.

Crafty Update

I've made a whopping total of two things this summer. A puppy for Phoebe's birthday: And a cell phone case for me: The case needs a bit of tweaking; I'm not happy with the strap. But it was way easier than making a stuffed animal, I'll tell you that much. The girls were on etsy with me last night looking at crochet patterns. Now I have a list of requests a mile long. I'm not sure when I'll have time to get to these new projects, but I'll keep you posted. Because I know you care.

File under: stupid problems to have

I'm going to see Wicked (the musical) in May with my sister- and mother-in-law. I'm excited; I like musicals. In anticipation, I downloaded the soundtrack a few days ago and have been listening to it continually on my ipod ever since. I read Wicked (the book) back when it first came out, but didn't remember much of the plot. So in order to understand what happens in the gaps between the songs in the musical, I turned to wikipedia for a plot summary. Then I clicked over to the synposis of the book to see how it differed from the musical. Reading about the book made me realize that I had pretty much forgotten all of the book. In fact, to be honest, what I remember about the book was that I found it a bit dull. A bit long. A bit too much about the politics of an imaginary country. A bit too full of unsympathetic characters. And then, I remember, I read the author's next book (a retelling of the Cinderella story) and didn't like it much at all. So I never even cons