The Jingle Hell Rock

The holidays (Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day) are my favorite time of year. During this time, I love living each day to its fullest (stop saying “You should do that every day!” right now. No one does. Accept it.). This year, the House Kitzmiller was plagued with disease, sickness and medical issues that not even the CDC could explain or cure. It was horrendous and began right around the time I would normally start my festive outlook on life which brings nothing but joy, jubilation and sometimes frolicking. The dark cloud of malady and affliction descended upon us, relentless and fierce, like the holy swarm of locusts. My oldest daughter Kasen suffered first. What seemed to be a standard head cold ravaged her little sinuses and the girl leaked green mucus from her nose for a week. Eden was next. She would look up at me with her tiny, congested head with eyes she could hardly open because of the sinus pressure and say “Hewwo,” (hello) in a voice akin to Kathleen Turner’s. Soon after, Kasen succumbed to a 104 degree fever for four days before it finally gave way to a chest cold and later, a second head cold resulting in a severe inner ear infection. This resulted in two doctors appointments and an ER visit. Eden was next to walk down that same path. Fever, cold, ear infection, antibiotics, two more doctor appointments. Then it inevitably took its choke-hold on me. A bastard viral chest infection and bronchitis which then lead to a sinus infection. After two weeks I surrendered and kept our sixth doctor appointment in half as many weeks. During this time, my husband decided to become unknowingly allergic to all things aspirin. Random allergic reactions in which his eyes and lips would swell ensued. His co-workers probably thought I beat him (which is not entirely false or unrealistic. I am merciless when it comes to Words With Friends). Doctor appointments seven and eight, chalked.

Could it be?  A light at the end of the tunnel? Surely, we must be on the mend. But quicker than you can say, “Flu shots are bullshit,” Kasen vomited all over her bed. And after her system had been cleared via both ends, Eden did the same, only it was all over me as I sat down to eat a Christmas cookie. Eden now gags when I show her a Christmas cookie. Great!!! She associates Christmas cookies with vomiting. Le sigh. This is not what I intended. Eden then became afflicted with a second fever followed by a full-body rash. A few days later, I blew chunks at 5 o’clock in the morning. This brings us to December 22^nd. Three sleeps until Christmas and my family is still battling. The festive season with occasional frolicking has been ruined. We persevered though. We pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps and marched on to Christmas Eve and successfully made all family rounds – despite the horrible cough that Eden developed in a matter of hours which I attributed to her incessant smoking habit and chose to ignore until she puked as a result. In the end, we merely survived Christmas this year. And yet here I sit, still thankful because somewhere, people have children stricken with something much worse than a fever, a head cold, an earache or diarrhea. They may have something an antibiotic can’t cure, something that may never go away, something that might very well prevent them from seeing another Christmas at all. And it is that which reminds me that I need to be grateful and treasure all I have because it is precious and mine.

I hope you all had a wonderful and merry Christmas.  Now where’s the aspirin -- I mean, Tylenol?