strep | Good Times with Jess

It’s that time of year when I’m assessing all of my life choices.

Our town override vote failed by a significant amount and now our schools are losing SO MANY teachers. When we bought our house, I was not paying attention. If a town leans right, it’s bad news bears.

My 42nd birthday is approaching and I have a bottle of blood pressure medication on my counter that promises to cure my middle-age acne, while also giving me numerous other side effects considering I don’t have high blood pressure.

Captain’s 50th birthday is approaching which really makes me feel very good about 42. Also he’s overdue for his colonoscopy since they moved the marker on him and now you’re supposed to start getting them when you’re 45.

RB and I headed to Target to pick up Captain’s Miralax and all that fun stuff.

I would’ve been going on my own, but the day before, RB came home from school, sat down in the living room and wouldn’t get up. Several hours of sleep later she asked me,

“Can you carry me to the art room?”

“Why?”

“I want to be with BB.”

“Go ahead.”

“I can’t walk.”

“You can’t walk?!”

“My knees hurt.”

“Both knees?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fall and get hurt today?”

“No.”

An hour later we were supposed to be headed to a fun event at her preschool. Captain and I stood before a seated RB. I told her,

“I don’t think we can go to the art show.”

“I want to go!”

“Then I need you to walk.”

“You can carry me.”

I stood her up. She screamed like I was trying to kill her. I put her down. I called the doctor’s office. The nurse said,

“Bring her in.” She also asked,

“Does her throat hurt?”

“RB does your throat hurt?”

“No.”

At 6pm we headed for the doctor. My 7:30pm book club plans were vaporizing before my very eyes. I was envisioning a night at the hospital with a child who could no longer walk.

The doctor came right in. She asked a minimal number of questions, shined her light in RB’s throat, took a swab and said,

“Looks like strep, we’ll know in a minute.”

STREP?! She can’t walk and she said her throat doesn’t hurt. The doctor said,

“Have a look.”

I peered down RB’s throat. Yup. Sure looked like it hurt.

I explained my confusion to the doctor. She said,

“Sometimes kids don’t even know what their throat is.”

Great point.

The rapid test came back fast. Positive!

I have never been happier to get a positive strep test. My imaginary night at the hospital was no more. One stop for antibiotics and off to book club I went!

So that’s why the next day I had RB’s company to collect colonoscopy supplies.

On the drive to Target RB asked,

“Is Dad sick?”

“No not at all.”

“Then why does Dad need medicine?”

“For his colonoscopy. He needs medicine to get all the poop out of his intestines so the doctor can go in his butt and look around.”

“She’s going to fit inside Dad’s butt?!”

“I mean she’s going to look inside Dad’s intestines with a stick.”

“The doctor is using outside things inside Dad?!!”

WOW I’m really butchering this conversation.

“No no no. I’m sorry. The doctor is using a special doctor tool to see inside of Dad and make sure he’s healthy.”

“Oooh. I don’t need medicine to poop.”

“Right!” And I don’t either.

When my doctor offered the oral, blood-pressure medicine he said,

“It’s hard to put topicals all over your back.”

Well it’s great for my shoulder mobility and I’ll happily do that instead of taking my chances with the thirty-seven side effects.

My acne is now under control; I have three more colonoscopy-free years and I don’t know what will happen to our schools. Please send help.

Happy New Year!!! I was waiting to stop coughing and then I’d write a blog post, but I may never stop coughing.

I know I’m in the good company of many, many other sick people. There were over a hundred kids absent from BB’s school two weeks ago, so we didn’t stand a chance.

Or maybe we did, but our chances weren’t good and we did NOT luck out.

We’re three weeks out from whatever mucus-laden virus this is. BB went down first and recovered quickly. Although she’s still coughing.

RB went next. Then me. Then our house guest.

Our house guest had a simple choice: Hanukkah with the kids and a lot of snot, or a kid and mucus-free Hanukkah. She picked snot.

RB has wiped her nose so aggressively, for so long, that her upper lip is bleeding and there are smears of blood appearing everywhere she likes to wipe her nose: clothes, lovies, furniture, the wall.

On the 23rd, at RB’s school’s Hanukkah party, someone told me,

“Just a warning, Strep is going around.”

I said a small prayer. And if proximity has anything to do with that working, I WAS in the synagogue. I didn’t say much else considering whatever virus we had, had caused me to lose my voice.

Christmas eve, my throat started to feel worse. The last night of Hanukkah/Christmas day, my throat felt even worse, but going to the doctor was low on my to-do list.

The day after Christmas, I couldn’t get there fast enough. Strep. The test came back positive, but the doctor was so confident just by looking at the state of my throat that I walked out of there with a prescription and ran straight into a fellow school family at CVS. Instead of hello, I offer,

“Strep?”

“How’d you know?!? Is it that obvious?”

“No, it’s going around school. RB says hi!”

I say another small prayer: ‘Please don’t let my children get this.’ I can’t get RB to take Tylenol. A 10-day course of antibiotics would be a curse.

As four of us round the corner on week three of being ill, Captain has never been healthier. This is wonderful. No kiddo bedtimes for me, but also I couldn’t be more envious.

For years I have been happy to lord over him my strong immune system. It seems he falls prey to whatever virus might be wafting by.

I spent a month in India eating whatever street food I stumbled upon and enjoyed myself with a very manageable amount of diarrhea.

I spent four years behind the bar, eating strangers’ leftovers, with no more than a few sniffles.

I spent the last ten years with Captain, feeling bad for his stuffed up nose, but not so bad that I didn’t enjoy every ounce of my congestion free life.

I am now in week three of the most mucus I’ve ever produced in my life. There feels like there’s some lesson to be learned here.

Maybe it’s to avoid small children. I’ll let you know how that goes.