The Pox Has Landed

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Oh, how the universe laughs at me! Yesterday Master J did something extraordinary. He took himself off to bed at FIVE O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON. He likes to hole up in his room and listen to the radio so when I looked up to find him gone I assumed that’s where he was. He was in his room alright. Shoes still on, he’d climbed into bed.

If you knew J, you’d understand this is really, really odd. He’s normally the life of the party and he never, ever sleeps in the daytime. I gently woke him and asked if he’d had a big day at school. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was just suspiciously lethargic and that alone is enough to warrant further investigation with J, so, like any parent would (right? RIGHT?) the first thing I did was to lift his shirt to check for spots. He had a couple, but nothing that screamed “QUARANTINE THIS HOUSE!” - until I caught sight of a tiny little ‘dew drop‘.

Cue the scary music.

He didn’t explode in spots like I expected him to. He still only had the same few spots plus one or two others (could have been mistaken for pimples, very minor) when he went to bed, but the ’dew drop’ had burst. I checked him again this morning and while not completely covered he definitely had chicken pox, with perhaps a 1-2 dozen more spots, some filled with clear fluid as the first was.

Last night I thought I may have been over-reacting after the scare of a month ago (which proved to be either a false alarm or the easiest case of chicken pox ever, with three spots total on Boof and no symptoms at all on Moo, whose friend had it at the time). I get a bit ‘trigger happy’ whenever I see spots on my kids. I once became convinced Moo, when she was about 5mo old, had meningococcal disease and felt pretty foolish when it turned out to be a bad case of urticaria (hives). In my defence, my city had gone through a meningococcal ‘outbreak’ at the time and any fast moving rash created panic and mayhem. The hives had melded together on her face and were forcing her eye closed due to swelling. Nevermind that it looked NOTHING like the pictures of meningococcal, LOL. Still warranted a doctor’s visit of course - but we never did find out what triggered the (we suspect allergic) reaction. The doctor wasn’t worried about doing an allergy test and nothing like it ever happened again. She was never even fussy, no other symptoms. Her mother, on the other hand, was a WRECK.

But no, this time, no over-reaction. J will likely miss the rest of the school term (school was due to end for the term at the end of next week anyway, then two weeks of break before coming back third-ish week of October). He’s none too pleased with Mummy’s constant checking of his spots (read above paragraph, it explains a lot, LOL). Explanations need to be a little clearer and many reassurances given for J. I had a half an hour conversation with him this morning about the symptoms and how the disease can be spread, repeating everything at least twice. I suspect I’ll have to explain again before the day is out. But it helps. He was very concerned that Mum or Dad would get sick. I explained about immunisations and natural immunity (I have had the former, Talented Hubby the latter). Then I told him he couldn’t come out on errands with us until all his spots had scabs, even though he had all that time off school - WELL. Wasn’t too pleased about that. I see Blockbuster in our future….

Quick question - does chicken pox need a formal diagnosis via a doctor? I’m about 96% sure but I wouldn’t want to miss something - perhaps take him in if he gets severe or has other symptoms?

Update: Oh, he’s MISERABLE. I got him to have a long soak in a vinegar/oatmeal bath (don’t worry, I checked for natural home remedies first, and this was the least weird, LOL) but drying him was painful - for him, with his poor little fragile blisters and for me, who kind of values my eardrums. The autism in this situation? Uh, not all that fun, surprisingly. The spots, which at first were kind of at the ‘average’ level and mostly on his torso, are now spreading further afield - groin, thighs, underarms etc. They don’t appear to be severe in quantity, lots of space between them, but they are angry and red and in varying stages of ‘fluidity’ - ick. They must be painful to touch. J also hates me looking at him, which I kind of have to do at this stage so that adds a bonus level of excitement to our daily procedings. I cannot even believe we haven’t yet passed the 24-hour mark. I’d forgotten about the added pressure of playing nursemaid to a disability as well. Sigh. I’m beginning to think that this was The Big Guy Upstairs forcing me to slow down - I can’t go anywhere without Talented Hubby being around to sit with J for a start. Wish us luck!