I received a few emails wondering why I stopped posting over the holiday’s. The reason? Well, it wouldn’t be a holiday for me if I didn’t get ill. Pretty much every Christmas and Easter I get something awful and this time was no exception.
It started out as a simple bug, one I caught off my husband (the same husband who claims he never gets sick.) The week before Christmas I sounded worst than I felt as I really didn’t find the bug to be that bad. Even though I lost my voice and had gone through a load of tissues, I really didn’t feel that miserable.
The Christmas Eve came. It started with my hands feeling a bit itchy and ended with them becoming horridly swollen, so much so I couldn’t even hold a glass of holiday cheer. I tried being a trooper but started to whimp out when I noticed these awful hives forming on my body. My husband (the dear that he is) told me to shut up and endure it as he wasn’t loading the family up on Christmas Eve to drive an hour to the nearest emerg. I guess I could have driven myself-if I could have closed my hands over the steering wheel, that is.
I stayed put.
The gifts under the tree were more open-handed tossed there than placed with loving care, but I did what I could.
I wondered aloud a few times during the process, questioning my husband on what we would do if my throat suddenly swelled shut and I choked to my death under the twinkling lights if the tree. Blair assured me he was sure there was something around he could poke a hole in my neck with so I could catch a few breaths.
That inspired me to look for another option. I found some children’s strength liquid antihistamine in the fridge, licked what I could out of the almost empty bottle and went to bed.
I’m pleased to say I did wake up Christmas morning, though the condition I was in was less than ideal. I was covered in hives. The only area left clear was my face and my chest. The rest of my body was a mess.
When I could sneak away from the activities around the tree I checked online for the possible cause of my irritating (and very itchy) condition. I narrowed it down to ring worm or scarlet fever, though my symptoms didn’t match either perfectly. Since I wasn’t allowed to screw up Christmas dinner at my cousins home (she is a deadly cook, so I could completely understand Blair’s hesitation to miss that) I covered myself in anti-itch cream and headed out, desperately hoping I wasn’t contagious.
As soon as the meal was over we headed home and I had a nap. I did seem to be improving, but not for long. That night the condition came back with a vengeance and I was covered worse than I had been before. The hives were everywhere.
I woke early on Boxing Day and called the Health Line. They (as always) told me to head up to emerg. We were supposed to be going to my in-laws that day; a three hour drive away, but I couldn’t travel with an easy mind. Killing cousins with my possibly contagious deadliness was one thing, but exposing my elderly in-laws to the danger was quite another; I’d never be forgiven.
I drove myself to the emergency department in Burin. The problem? Who knows-I had a virus, something that was probably contagious but certainly not deadly. I picked up some antihistamine, adult strength this time, drove home, and we continued with our holiday cheer.
I started feeling better a few days later and was thrilled (though curious) that no one else I was in contact with became sick. That was until Brody woke me last Wednesday morning-asking me to scratch his back. He was covered in hives.
The worst of this bug only lasts for 48 hours but still, it isn’t pleasant. What’s worse is that besides Brody and I, I know of no one else who has had it or currently has it.
There is one thing I have to look forward to now that I know for sure it is transferable; and that is the fact that my husband might come down with it eventually.
I think we used up most of the anti-itch cream and antihistamine on Brody, so I guess I should pick up some more just in case hubby does catch it; especially considering we are such a distance from the local pharmacy.
Still, part of me doesn’t want to. If worse comes to worse I’m sure I have something around here I could jab him in the neck with-you know, to help him breathe and stuff.