Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts

18 February 2014

The Incredible Immunity Girl

The Kid never gets sick.  Except, you know, cancer, but even then, she wasn't actually ill with it.

Sometimes I feel bad about it - the other working parents I talk with are always commiserating about the constant stream of bugs their kids pick up from daycare and/or school - coughs, runny noses, tummy bugs, chicken pox, hand foot and mouth - and how many days they end up having to take off or work partly from home.  I nod along sympathetically, but I can't really join in because The Kid has had maybe one day off from daycare, and one day off from school since she first started at nursery just before her first birthday.

Chicken pox swept through her daycare five or six times while she was there, and her best buddy got it.  The two of them were always hanging out head-to-head, so if she was going to get it, she should have got it that time.  But nope, nothing.  I'm vacillating between getting her vaccinated for the pox, and hoping she just has some sort of natural immunity...

The Kid has a book called "The Incredible Book-Eating Boy" by Oliver Jeffers (which I highly recommend) in which the eponymous character throws up (too many books).  I had to explain to her what throwing up was, because she has never done it!  Actually, that's not quite true. Just before she turned one, we got home after work/nursery one evening and as I got her out of her car seat she threw up straight down my cleavage.  She wouldn't eat that evening, threw up once more (smiling and happy all the while) and by the next day she was fine.  I, on the other hand, spent the next week flitting between bed and bathroom, more ill than I've been in my life. Thanks Kid.

When she was at Preschool she was often upset that she never got one of the coveted iceblocks (ice lollies), which were kept in the freezer for first aid purposes (fevers, tummy bugs etc - it's amazing what flavoured frozen water can cure!)  Once when I was haranguing The Kid to wash her hands after going to the toilet, and said to her "If you don't wash your hands you'll get sick, and you don't want to get sick, do you?" she replied "Yes I do, because then I'll get an iceblock at Preschool!"  Possibly not the effect they were aiming for.  The day she got stung by a wasp on an outing was possibly her best day ever because on returning to centre she convinced a teacher that a wasp sting was iceblock worthy.  When I came to pick her up she came running up to me and said "Guess what Mummy? I got stung by a mosquito and I got to have a WHOLE iceblock!"  She was clearly traumatised.

The Kid certainly doesn't get her immune system from me. I was always getting ear infections and sore throats as a child, although it improved immeasurably once I had my tonsils removed, at age 7.  At 14 I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition called sarcoidosis of the larynx and spent the next 15 years on steroids to control it.  That is inactive now, but has morphed into another autoimmune condition called uveitis, which affects my right eye.  Uveitis can be one-off, recur sporadically or be chronic.  Mine is chronic (yay, me!)

The Kid's Dad is obviously responsible for her robust health.  He has never been in hospital as a patient, not even when he made his first entrance to the world. He often complains that since meeting me he has spent more time in hospitals than he ever thought possible. I like to introduce people to new experiences... ;)

I do count my lucky stars, touch wood and many other cliches that I have such a healthy child.  It certainly makes the life of a working parent much easier. Speaking of cliches, "famous last words" and "tempting fate" are suddenly coming to mind... ;)

13 February 2014

Those down days

I have never suffered from persistent depression.  I know many people who have, and do, and struggle with it on a daily basis.  I think my mental health is generally pretty good.  But every now and then I have one of those down days where my head feels like it's full of marshmallows and cotton wool, my eyes struggle to stay open, there are tears lurking fully formed in my tear ducts and a permanent lump in my throat.  Any small thing is likely to make me cry.  The day seems too hard to do.  Too hard to be.

On these days I would really like to find a smallish cubbyhole, climb in, close the door and shut the world out for the day.

It usually lasts only a day, so I know I'm lucky.  And I've never been so down that I've been in danger of harming myself, or anyone else for that matter.

Today is one of those days.