Monday, March 19, 2007

Biological Warfare


Last evening, two of my three sons began complaining of various maladies. My oldest had a slight cough and a headache, my youngest an “extremely” sore throat. Sunday nights are often plagued by mysteriously rapid onset complaints, usually caused by the impending doom of school on Monday. I did the usual. Checked temperatures: Oldest: 100°, youngest normal. Looked at throats: red. I distributed Tylenol and sent all to bed.

At about 2:00am, my youngest woke with what he described as a “horrible” sore throat. I guess that trumps his earlier “extremely” sore one. I gave him some sore throat strips and sent him packing.

Bright and early this morning, I wielded my thermometer to find out who would win the “Sick or Not Sick” game. My oldest turned out to be the winner with a 101.9°. The youngest was now sniffling and hoarse, but without a fever. I figured it was better to be safe and kept him home as well.

So now I am shut in the house with two sniffling, coughing, feverish children. Jealous? The youngest, between coughs, informs me he feels much better, especially if I planned to take him to the doctor for a throat culture. He has Math 24 Game after school and doesn’t want to miss it. The oldest is moaning quietly on the couch. Both have begun the tentative “I’m bored” complaints in preparation for lobbying for video games and text messaging. (Electronic gaming and messaging is a no-no when you are home sick from school.)

I have dosed myself with Zicam and Vitamin C and washed my hands raw. Everything they touch is being meticulously cleaned with Clorox wipes. Lysol is my friend. I am the germ police. Despite all of this, I suppose I am doomed.

What’s that? I think I hear someone changing the channel on the TV. I had better go sterilize the remote.


Pray for me....
Lucy

9 Comments:

RUTH said...

I know I shouldn't laugh because I can remember just what you're going through. GOOD LUCK!

TomCat said...

Lucy, when mine were young, I used to catch everything they brought home from school. May you escape.

Jamie said...

You are living in Robert Louis Stevenson's Land of Counterpane


Stay well in spite of the germy onslaught.

leftdog said...

It's been a cold winter and spring seems to be when a lot of flu - colds hit. Honey, lots of honey.

Mando Mama said...

A few weeks ago, a kid in our office had that gnarly stomach virus. Well, one Saturday night as the kids and I were in the middle of a good game of Blokus, my stomach started to rumble, and lo, twas I who was up and down until about 2 a.m. The next day they awoke to find the house, particularly the downstairs bathroom, in the most spotless, germ-free state they've ever seen it. And neither of them managed to catch it, due more likely to their hearty constitutions than my housekeeping.

May you be forever well....

Women on the Verge said...

Thanks for your well-wishes. Both are still at home. 102.5 is the record fever. We are going to the doctor today to make sure it isn't strep or something else that could be cured almost instantaneously with an antibiotic (riiiiight... but I can wish).

Oh, and mando mama... Blokus is one of our favorite games.

Flimsy Sanity said...

Schools are such pestilence incubators. Only place worse is the medical facilities.

Housewife said...

Florence Nightingale I am not.

I feel for ya darlin'.

Dark Daughta said...

I used to be really meticulous about tracking germs through objects touched, dosing family members with potions designed to kick the hell out of colds or flus before they truly took hold. Now, I'm tired. I rely on good food to heal us and just cross fingers when everybody gets sick. This winter hasn't been too, too bad. We just survived a 2 week zap of something. Had to take the nine month old to the hospital just to check and make sure it wasn't anything more serious than a virus. He's fine, we're fine, I'm fine. I don't want anymore viruses this year. But my daughter is five and her classmates have just as distant a relationship to hygiene as she does and they're all friendly. Don't touch, don't touch them, yourself, your brother, me or your papi. Does she listen? Does it work? Hee, hee, hee. Nope.