Follow Up to My Disease-Ridden Post:

I am sure you all are wondering (since most of you sit around, dwelling on the ins and outs of my life) about the follow up from my experience with Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease. 

After A TON of explanation to my friends, family, coworkers, and pretty much anybody else who wanted to know I think I finally made it past leper-status.  A few people had weird moments of ignorance (like asking me two weeks after I went back to work if I was still contagious) and instead of getting irritated I just rolled with it and pacified dumb questions. 

Aside from slowly losing almost all of my fingernails and toenails due to swelling of my hands and feet, I have no residual side effects.  I feel sorry for people who permanantly have no fingernails... I could not open or scratch anything!  Thank goodness mine grew back quickly.  Now I'm just waiting for slower-growing big toenails to make their appearance.

All-in-all, I am healthy and recovered.  And I have some new antibody friends to keep me that way ;)

Public Health Announcement

This person has single-handedly
spread coxsackie virus throughout
the Willamette Valley from the Oregon
Coast to Portland. Notice red blotches and
missing smile.

Let me just start out by telling all of you: I AM SORRY!  I didn't know I was contagious when I saw you! 

On Sunday Eric and I came home from a fun weekend at the Newport Seafood and Wine Festival.  I felt generally tired, a little sniffly, and I had a sore throat but I figured it was all due to too much fun the day before and I shrugged it off.  I also noticed that I had a tiny, itchy sore spot on my index finger- like I had touched fiberglass or something- but again, shrugged that off, too.

Little did I know that my body was mounting an extreme response attack to....Coxsackie A 16 virus...aka, Hand-Foot-Mouth Disease.  Don't laugh!  Eric thought the name was very special.  He thought of a few choice variations that I will leave to your imagination.

By Monday night I was unable to sleep because the palms of my hands and soles of my feet were tingling and itching unbearably.  I thought I was having an allergic reaction to something but could think of nothing that I had come into contact with that was out of the ordinary.  Tuesday morning I went to urgent care where they did nothing for me other than take my blood and tell me that they didn't know what the heck was wrong with me.  When I called to find out whether or not my test results were conclusive of anything the only thing they could tell me was that I was anemic. I was not pleasant to the poor MA who had to take my call: "Anemic?!! That's all you can tell me?  I already knew that! The freakin Red Cross tells me that everytime I try to give blood!  Geez.  Who cares if I'm anemic?  No- this does not warrant a follow up."  By Wednesday I was miserable and desperate for relief. I hobbled to my old primary care doc and she diagnosed me and then did a blood test just to be sure.  She said that if I had gone to a pediatrician they would have diagnosed me in two seconds.

Not only do I have these gruesome-looking bumps all over my face, under my nose, the palms of my hands, and soles of my feet, but everwhere that the bumps are is painful to the touch and swollen.  This means that for three days now I have had a really difficult time walking or holding anything.  Showering?-Forget it.  The only thing that brought relief was Ibuprofen and holding ice packs in my hands.

Things are feeling better today (Thursday) but the rash is definitely still present.  Thank God for a good Mom and a good boyfriend to take care of me and entertain Brooklynn! 

If you have been in contact with me in person from Monday, February 22nd, to today, do yourself a favor and google this crappy virus which apparently affects mostly children, and purchase large bottles of Ibuprofen.  Oh- and for the record, I have no sores in my mouth.  I don't know why I care but I feel like I need to let everyone know that I'm not as gross as all of the pics on google images.

High-five, anyone?!

I'm Gonna Jump!



Joy!

Why yes, I did allow my child to practice her quasi swan dives on the couch today. Brooklynn's need to expend energy mixed with my need to practice taking pictures made for a fun combination on this rainy, gloomy Friday! The next bunch of pictures are a few of the results...



I know, I know... We shouldn't let children jump on couches... particularly nice hand-me-down couches with crappy covers on them.  Shame on me as a mother.



Take note of the mess lingering in the background... This was Brooklynn's handywork before practicing jumps.

Needless to say, Brooklynn's dedication to keeping her arms straight and fingers together was impeccable... However, her legs and overall form were tragically flawed.  Oh well.  She has a lifetime to perfect the skill of swan diving, right?  I hope she realizes that our p.o.s. couch is the only couch she can practice this skill on...

Experimentation

Well folks, it has happened... The day that some of us can remember from our own childhoods or the day that some of us have experienced through our own children... The day that a child decides he or she will cut hair with scissors. Brooklynn gave herself a hair cut last night.

We did our nightly routine and tucked her in with her music on and light dimmed. About an hour later I got up and went in her room, like I do every night, to tuck her back in. She usually falls asleep on top of books or toys that she collects after we tuck her in the first time. Last night I opened the door and she was still awake. After I did the usual, "Why are you still awake?... You need to be asleep right now.... You have school in the morning...," routine, she asked me to take out her braids because she said they were uncomfortable to sleep on. I had put two french braids in her hair earlier yesterday. I started to unravel the braids and clumps of hair came out in my hands...

Brooklynn's bedroom is dim and I'm standing there with clumps of my child's hair in my hands and starting to silently freak out. I didn't want to scare her but I was wondering if maybe I braided it too tight or I pulled too hard in taking the braids out or maybe I wasn't feeding her enough vitamins...(seriously, these are all the things that went through my mind in about a ten second period of time). Then she says, "I cut my hair, Mama!" I turned on the overhead light and sure enough, there on her nightstand were her scissors. Phew! Atleast I don't have to worry about the vitamins and minerals thing. Now, all I have to worry about is my child looking like she has a mullet. I'm not sure which is worse.

I told her she now has a whole new beautiful look and that next time she wants a hair cut she needs to tell one of us adults. I then took her cut off hair into Eric and, half laughing, half crying, explained to him that we now have a hipster child with a very weird hairdo.


*Sidenote: Don't put your judgey pants on and ask me why she had access to scissors! For the record: she has kid's scissors! The kind that are in every kindergarten classroom! How the heck they are sharp enough to cut hair is beyond me.

Eric says he remembers himself as a child taking scissors and cutting a line straight down the middle of his head. I remember hiding behind the couch and making "boy" Barbies and My-Little-Ponies. So this will be Brooklynn's story... Hopefully the only story she has about cutting hair unless she becomes a stylist someday.