Skrip - tyur' - i - ent: adj. Possessing the violent desire to write.


#033 In which our hero becomes extremely ill.

As I write this, my hands are covered with tiny red bumps. Each looks and feels like a bug bite, tender to the touch and sore. They seem strategically placed to cause me pain: a cluster on the tip of each finger; and patch on my right hand right where I rest my palm on the gearshift; a circle around my left ring finger to be irritated by my wedding ring. My feet are also covered by these bumps, making it not so much painful to walk, as very uncomfortable. Like I'm wearing sweat-soaked wool socks that itch.

And right now, I'm feeling better than I have in days.

It started last Sunday. Well, let me back up and do a little finger-pointing. These idiots brought their kids to daycare sick (I've written about these idiots here. They are referred to as "bitch" and "Smarmy Radio Salesman," just so there's no, y'know, confusion). And as anyone who's ever had their kids in daycare knows, this is Rule #1: "Thou Shall Not Bringth Sick Children to Daycare." Even worse, they knew their kids were sick, dosed 'em up on Children's Tylenol to hide the fever, and didn't tell the day care provider. Assholes. And! And! Apparently refused to come get them when called and told them were running fevers! This, of course, is Rule #2: "Thou Shall Dropth Thy Shite and Come Fetch Yon Children Post-Haste When Called." So, naturally, my precious little girl got sick.

And, oh my, how sick she was! By nature, Lily is a very, very pleasant child, really never cries unless she's hungry or tired. Or sick. And this wasn't just a little flu, this was...

Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease!

If I could put the above font into a creepy, blood-dripping font, I would... just to help express the horror of this disease. But if, like me, you've never had occasion to hear of this before (and though it sounded like something only cattle get), let me tell you: it sucks. You child develops a rash, runs a fever, and develops little ulcers in her mouth that make it painful to eat. That was the worst bit. She was at her most miserable on Saturday last, when, as luck would have it, I was out of town for most of the day. I checked in with my increasingly haggard wife throughout the day, each time to hear a screaming child in the background. Well, let me tell you, I paid - and paid dearly - for missing the worst of it.

Because the next day I got sick myself.

If you do a quick Internet search on Hand, Foot, and Mouth you'll find several sources that tell you that adults rarely get this disease, even when their children do. Well, I don't know if was because I've skipped a lot of church lately or what, but I was punished in Biblical proportions.

A fever of 103. Rash on hands and feet. Chills, sweats, nausea, headaches, and my mouth practically erupted with ulcers. After two days, my fever went mostly away. And now, five days out, I'm left with rash on hands and feet and a mouth that's so tender I can't eat anything other than overcooked pasta and ice cream. It hurts to drink cold water.

Sources also say that a patient should be fully recovered in five to seven days. I guess it's possible that everything will disappear over the next two days... but I doubt it.

This virus has well and truly kicked my ass. And I mean in a High School bully fashion; y'know, he'll kick you while you're down, then stop and say "Get up, y'baby! I won't kick you any more!" Then as soon as you get up to one knee he plants a steel-toe square in your gut one more time.

Which brings us to Rule #3: "If Thou Bringth Sick Children to the Place of Daycare, Thou Deserves Whatever Happens to Thy Dumb Ass, Even If It is a Swift and Sudden Punch to the Balls."

Oh yeah. I'm just following the rules.

UPDATE! I just learned that the idiots are taking their kids out of daycare and moving to Wisconsin. Good riddance. But don't think I've forgotten I own you a cock-knock, jackass! I'll be waiting!


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