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Fragments From the Memory Log, Entry Twelve

I’m sick.

That’s right. I have some sort of viral flu-like thing attacking my body. So just put out of your mind the idea I’m talking about my mental state. I’m not. No, I’m being serious.

It’s going around, I’m told. Why and how and where I picked it up I can’t say. Skimmed off some tainted dollar bill? Wheezed my way on the breath of a girl running the register at the local Brooks Pharmacy? There’s no forensic detail tracking it down for me. But I got it. Hoo boy did I get it. It’s been over 48 hours since the first appearance of its oncoming symptoms, and it’ll probably be another day, or more, before I can claim to be well, or at least over it. Sitting here typing into a web browser hurts, but it hurts even more when I lie down and try to wait it out. So here I am. Please take any sloppiness in spelling and grammar in this post (more so than normal) to be caused by the illness, as well any possible lack of a consistent point (again, beyond what you typically find here).

The idleness imposed upon me has, as it is wont to do, caused me to think back on the illnesses that have plagued me my entire life. Not in any “oh my Illuminati the man is a walking health hazard!” way, but I’ve admittedly dealt with a fair amount of bedriddenness (is that a word?). Certainly during my childhood, which is the point of this.

I can’t provide much in details covering the onslaught of a the first microscopic bug invasion hitting me full on. Or probably even the fifteenth. I have a pretty good recall of my childhood, but not that good. However, past parental consultation has assured me any of my early sickly experiences were not all that abnormal. So I can reasonably guess at the odd cold or ear infection or night-long incursion by the croup, among the other usual baby stuff.

The first big one to hit just about when my cognitive leavings started to stick was when I had chickenpox. Thankfully it’s not a full-on memory I can claim, minus the vague impressions of itchiness it encumbers. Why thankful? Because that pissy little varicella-zoster was everywhere. Including places it’s not polite to mention on a PG-13 blog, so allow me to pass. But to make things clear, the everywhere included everywhere. Such as the interior lining of my mouth.

Ever try to scratch that bony plate behind your top front teeth? Yeah, I was quite miserable. Even my mother gets the heebie-jeebies when she talks about it.

The second over-the-top illness, the one that truly outdoes them all for me, was the spring I picked a streptococcal infection, or strep. Not that run of the mill version which leads to strep throat or some annoyingly minor skin infection. No, that wasn’t good enough for yours truly. It was never made clear by the doctor treating me, but it’s become obvious, considering my symptoms at the time, I was likely dealing with Streptococcus pneumonia, or pneumococcus. Woohoo! The good doc did inform my parents that I was “only” a strep carrier, which at least meant I was not infectious—small favors, and all.

Ah yes, my Year of the Strep. I call it that because, though it wasn’t anything close to a full year I lived through the infection, it did affect my life in ways beyond being able to stand—or even sit up in bed—for a few weeks without losing what little I might have been keeping down. For nearly a month I became home-schooled, or rather my homework was sent home along with my younger brother. No, not humiliating at all! I’ll just state for the record that I squeaked by that last part of Elementary Year 5, and leave it at that. Also, though I can never claim Tiny Shoeless Joe status for what skills I displayed in the sport, I’m very fond of my Little League baseball experiences. Unfortunately that year the best I was allowed, considering my weakened condition, was to play part bat boy, part team cheerleader (go Kofabco Red Sox!), and part catching coach (my one true and primary baseball skill). Honestly, not my most enjoyable baseball season. I’ll recount that some other time.

Speaking of weakened conditions, I think it’s time I finished up here.