The Waiting Pox (Cyrus)

I have been meaning to write something substantial for my first post to Accidental Blogger, but my brain has been roasting at a pleasant 39°C (that's 102°F for the Imperialists) for a large portion of the past week. It has simmered down to near normal now, and the pox are on the retreat.

I was not planning on getting Chickenpox at 30 years of age, indeed, I thought it to be nigh impossible. The social wisdom on the matter is clear. You get the pox once, likely as a youth, able to enjoy the ministrations of your parents, yet endowed with the ability to feel guiltless about your whining. After that, you never get it again. Secure with this common sense, I happily accepted an invitation to dine with some soon to depart friends, aware that their pre-school aged twins were showing the first signs of the pox. A vague memory of horrid itching was all the protection I needed.

Fast forward two weeks, and I felt a little malaise. And then it hit. Chickenpox isn't like a cold. It doesn't slip between your chest and head, desperately trying to outfox your immune system, knowing well it has no chance to make it to the big time. The pox announces its intentions loudly and boldly, splashing them with color (red) all over your chest and back: I am here, and I am going to try and kill you.

In response, I fell back into old routines developed in childhood, possibly during my first experience with the poxs, some 25 years past. I remembered again why feeling cold is bad (fever is high), and sweating is good (body is trying to cool down). In an attempt to seize a little control in a situation where I had none, I tried to run my body as if it were a nuclear reactor. Mentally, I would call up the control room in put in orders, "divert resources to keeping core body temperature below 39°," or, in a moment of extreme headache, "alert, alert, make sure the brain isn't swelling." I had been reading about encephalitis, a possible complication from Chickenpox.

All very childish I suppose, and I can't say I persisted at it very long, but it did provide some much needed distraction from the monotony of persistent full-body throbbing. At the core, that is what a illness like Chickenpox comes down to: monotonous waiting, waiting for the fever to subside, waiting for it to come back, waiting for someone to go shopping for food, waiting for your eyes to stop hurting, waiting for life to start again.

The Internet makes the waiting worse. It keeps one connected and aware of the outside world. I know what all my friends are doing today, so I know exactly where I want to be besides here in bed, with just my laptop keeping me warm. It's a little taste of a phenomenon I have come to think of as Hypothetically Lost Opportunity Syndrome (HLOS), where one pines for an event or person that seems remarkably close, with the Internet informing you of their presence in big bold letters, right there, just in front of you, but actual physical attendance is not a real possibility. There is a form of mental discounting taking place, with a fire sale on reality. Being sick shrinks the HLOS radius until it is acutely felt. It's enough to make one think about disconnecting for a time. Not knowing can be mentally healthier.

The fever is mostly gone now. I can read for hours at a time without my eyes tiring, and I'm discovering which friends make the best selections at the supermarket. The waiting isn't over yet, maybe another week to go, but at least I can function with some capacity again. Heck, that was only a week, right? Seems silly to even complain.

My father contracted the pox twice as well, years apart. This turns out to be not so uncommon. Some people only gain partial immunity, or their immunity fades with time. There are possibly apocryphal on-line reports from people who claim to have had three or four bouts with the virus. So much for the social wisdom. Here is hoping that two times is enough for my body to get the antibodies right.

Comments

[Ruchira]

Welcome to the world of blogging, Cyrus. A remarkably cogent post (you even remembered to include the right tags!) despite the feverish malaise. Hopefully we will soon see the "substantial" post you had in mind before the attack of the pox.

I know of at least one other A.B. blogger (Sujatha) who endured the miseries of chicken pox in adulthood. But you are the first person I know who was afflicted by the full blown version of the disease twice! I have heard of people getting shingles, its vestigial manifestation, later in life. However, a second bout of chicken pox is news to me. Since your dad had the same experience, perhaps there is some genetic propensity for the unusual repeat occurrence. Hope you feel completely well soon.

[Elatia Harris]

An auspicious AB debut in circumstances that are anything but. And a grand contribution to the lit on childhood illnesses that afflict grown-ups. You make me want my Teddy Bear, just to read your words. Sending lots of psychic chicken soup....

[Aditya Dev Sood]

Sucks to be you, dude! But champagne now, all the same... Mazeltov!

[Sujatha]

Happy recovery, Cyrus. At least you have the internet and Facebook to keep you company, which makes the isolation a little bit more tolerable.
When I had my round of chicken pox, the internet was still in its diapers, I only had occasional connect time to the Usenet. It didn't bother me with such a high fever, though the blisters were distressing. But most distressing of all was a first time encounter with the famed intricacies of the US Health care system ( first appointment - come in 8 weeks time, or hie thee to an ER, if you think it needs immediate attention :O).

[Norman Costa]

Cyrus,

Leave it to Elatia, the fantastic chef, to suggest chicken soup - if only psychic chicken soup. Well, I have some chicken soup that is less psychic and more musical.

I have an album of fun klezmer music with a song named, "Chicken," performed by the group Kapelye. One doesn't have to speak or understand Yiddish to figure out a few words and phrases.

If you like, let my know how I can send a 2.7 MB .ogg file to you. It'll get you up out of bed and dancing. Anyone know how I can post it somewhere, like Youtube?

May you recover and write a thousand blog posts.

[narayan]

Application of a paste made out of neem leaves and turmeric was all that was prescribed for me. Of course, these days you may have to pay a royalty to W.R.Grace for the first ingredient.

[Cyrus Hall]

Thanks for the kind words everyone. The fever is completely gone today, possibly thanks to a healthy dose of homemade chicken soup. Actually, turkey soup, as pollo is quite expensive in Switzerland.

Norm, thanks for the gift of music, but my e-mail in-box can't handle a file that large. Maybe upload it to one of the many file sharing sites and e-mail me the URL?