Daycare is the ultimate breeding ground for, you guessed it, GERMS! Let’s start at the beginning.
A sunny August day where I didn’t have a care in the world, except for the fact I am raising a wild, picky eating boy. On this day, I thought to myself how lucky we are. My precious babe has yet to experience sickness. I didn’t knock on wood. He started daycare the third week in August. We’ve been sick EVER SINCE. Every few weeks, lime green snot begins to drain from his nose. Then a few days later, he begins to tug at either one ear or both ears. Now, I can spot an ear infection before it begins. In the HBO show “Game of Thrones” the phrase, “Winter is Coming,” is constantly repeated. In my house, it’s “Infection is Coming.” And coming. And coming. Oh look, we’re all sick again.
It started on Super Bowl Sunday. The husband gets green faced and spends a considerable amount of time in the bathroom. I’m in bed thinking, “I am so glad I didn’t eat what he ate.” I don’t want THAT. I’ve survived more infections in the last six months than I have had in my entire life. So no, I didn’t want the stomach flu. Then 4 a.m. rolled around and guess what… I puked. VIOLENTLY. I get knocked down onto my knees praying to the porcelain God, “Please, make this stop.” A day later, it finally subsided.
I survived three months with gallbladder attacks six years ago. In fact, I convinced myself that the gallbladder attacks were muscles spasms. I would go to the Y and swim a mile to make the spasms stop. I told myself, “the muscles just needed a good workout.” I couldn’t hold down anything solid during this time. And I was super excited at how much weight I was losing from puking and swimming. Yea, totally not healthy. Finally, I remembered a doctor telling me several years prior that I had gallstones. Sure enough, there was the culprit to my puking and so called ‘muscle spasms.’ They removed the pesky unneeded gallbladder, and I was fine. So, I am no stranger to puking.
Nothing can compare to the stomach flu that attacked us on Super Bowl Sunday. Did it stop there? NO! The germs weren’t done yet.
By Thursday, I had a slight sore throat. Great, another ear infection… so I thought. Then on Sunday, a rash appeared. Guess where? On my ass. Yes. Of all places, my husband had to take a picture of my bum to show me this horrible rash. It was unlike any rash we have ever seen.
I have never sexted in my entire life. I sent my Mom, my Mother-In-Law, my best friend, and my sister a picture of my broken out rash covered ass (tramp stamp and all.) I don’t think this counts as sexting but it’s the closest I’ve come to sending nude pictures. Then, the rash spread.
When it started to go into my scalp, I peeled out of my driveway and headed to the E.R. If something is threatening to come onto my face, then the shit is serious. I spent five hours at the hospital to be told I had strep throat which had turned into Scarlatina. This is the adult version of Scarlet Fever. Fun times!
Within a week’s time, I had the stomach flu, strep throat, and Scarlatina. The germs were still not done. Here comes more green sinus infected rotten congestion from my nose and throat. The Terrific Toddler was also a green snot faucet. He was diagnosed with another ear infection yesterday.
There really is no point to this story, besides germs. Germs are everywhere. I no longer touch public doorknobs with my hands. I use paper towels or my sleeves. And eventually, I fear I’m going to put my son in the bubble when he goes to daycare. And I may adapt a standard of living comparable to the great Howard Hughes. He may have been onto something.