Quantcast
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

Strep strikes hard

Christmas is two weeks away.

Tis the season…for strep and high fevers and mopping vomit off the bathroom floor. I’m feeling a little melancholy this year. Like the song at the beginning of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Sad and slow. Christmas is two weeks away. I’ve done some shopping. I’ve hidden presents in various places around the house. We’ve put the Advent wreath in the center of the dining room table, and we light it every time we eat dinner together. Lately, that hasn’t been a lot.

The week before Thanksgiving, Rebecca started with strep. My oldest daughter never complains about her health unless something really bothers her. “Mom,” she said one morning before school, “my throat hurts.”

“Does it hurt like strep?” I asked. Rebecca usually has strep two or three times a year.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It just really hurts when I swallow.”

“Open wide,” I told her. I gazed into Rebecca’s gaping mouth, past the braces to two bright red fleshy arches connected to her tonsils.

“That looks like strep,” I told her. “I’ll take you to the doctor today.”

We got an appointment midmorning. I dropped Angela and Lucy at school. Johnny and Ben came with Rebecca and me to our pediatrician’s office. Annette, the nurse, greeted us warmly. “How are you guys?” she asked. “We haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“I know,” I answered. “We haven’t been in since last strep season, have we?”

Annette shook her head. “Everybody’s getting so big,” she said.

“I’m free,” Ben volunteered.

“Three years old,” Annette said. “Imagine that.”

In the examining room, Annette swabbed the back of Rebecca’s throat. “The strep test will take seven minutes,” she said. “Then Dr. Gross will be in.”

While we waited, Johnny and Ben took turns leaping from the round, rolling doctor’s stool to the examining table. “Look, Mom,” Johnny said. “I’m a Rescue Hero.”

“Be careful, Rescue Hero,” I warned.

“I’m a Rescue Hero, too,” Ben said.

When Dr. Gross walked in, he smiled at the boys. “Someone in this room has strep,” he said. “I guess that would be Miss Rebecca.”

“I’m a Rescue Hero,” Ben told the doctor.

“Good job, Rescue Hero,” Dr. Gross replied.

After examining Rebecca, Dr. Gross prescribed some antibiotics. “If anyone else in the family gets a sore throat within the next week, just let us know. We’ll call in another prescription so you don’t have to come back in.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Good bye, Rescue Heroes,” Dr. Gross told the boys.

Within the week, Angela and Johnny were downing pink Amoxicillin liquid twice a day. “I hope Ben doesn’t get it,” I told Jack. “You know how well Ben takes medicine.”

Jack rolled his eyes. My youngest son hates medicine. The few times Ben has had to take medicine, Jack and I have had to hold him down and force the offending liquid down his throat. I’ve tried hiding the medicine in juice, in strawberry milk, in ice cream. Ben spits them all out.

Before I could worry too much about Ben getting strep, Jack got stomach flu. Saturday after Thanksgiving, we celebrated Rebecca’s 11th birthday. She invited four friends over for a “mini-spa” experience. The girls gave each other manicures and pedicures, and I gave them each a facial. Jack took Angela, Lucy, Johnny, and Ben to SeaWorld to get them out of the house.

When Jack and the kids got home, Jack walked into the house bent over like an old man. “I don’t feel good,” he told me. “I’m going upstairs.”

I didn’t see much of Jack for the next day or two. He lay in bed shivering with chills or burning with fever. The few times he ventured to the bathroom, I stayed far away. “Is Daddy sick?” Angela asked Sunday morning.

“Really sick,” I answered. “Pray he gets better.”

Monday after Thanksgiving, I took Ben to the doctor. “He’s got a little fever,” I told Annette. “And he says his throat hurts.”

Ben had strep. The doctor gave him a shot so he wouldn’t have to take medicine. Jack’s flu hung on a long time. He tried going back to work Tuesday but ended up back in bed on Wednesday. Tuesday night, Johnny threw up all over Jack’s and my bed. He threw up and ran a fever for the next two days. Thursday, I got a call from school. “Lucy just threw up in class,” the secretary told me. I left Johnny and Ben with Jack, who was still home, and drove to school to pick up Lucy.

I found Lucy in the office looking pale and sheepish. “I’m so sorry you’re sick, sweetie,” I told her. “Did you make it to the bathroom?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Thank God. Let’s go to your class and get your backpack.”

In Lucy’s classroom, Coach B., the PE teacher, was scrubbing out the bathroom with a bucket and a mop. “She told me she made it to the bathroom,” I whispered to Coach B.

“She made it to the bathroom all right,” he whispered back. “She just didn’t make it to the toilet. I’ve never seen a kid throw up so much.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

On the drive home, Lucy asked, “How long till Christmas?”

“About three weeks,” I answered.

“Will we be better by then?”

“I hope so.”

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all

Previous article

Anne Bradstreet: the first writer in North America to be published

The first poet of importance in the American literary tradition
Next Article

Disneyland Haunted Mansion technique

Tom Brosseau, Cults, Eddie Vedder, Matte Black, Vokab Kompany

Tis the season…for strep and high fevers and mopping vomit off the bathroom floor. I’m feeling a little melancholy this year. Like the song at the beginning of A Charlie Brown Christmas. Sad and slow. Christmas is two weeks away. I’ve done some shopping. I’ve hidden presents in various places around the house. We’ve put the Advent wreath in the center of the dining room table, and we light it every time we eat dinner together. Lately, that hasn’t been a lot.

The week before Thanksgiving, Rebecca started with strep. My oldest daughter never complains about her health unless something really bothers her. “Mom,” she said one morning before school, “my throat hurts.”

“Does it hurt like strep?” I asked. Rebecca usually has strep two or three times a year.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It just really hurts when I swallow.”

“Open wide,” I told her. I gazed into Rebecca’s gaping mouth, past the braces to two bright red fleshy arches connected to her tonsils.

“That looks like strep,” I told her. “I’ll take you to the doctor today.”

We got an appointment midmorning. I dropped Angela and Lucy at school. Johnny and Ben came with Rebecca and me to our pediatrician’s office. Annette, the nurse, greeted us warmly. “How are you guys?” she asked. “We haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“I know,” I answered. “We haven’t been in since last strep season, have we?”

Annette shook her head. “Everybody’s getting so big,” she said.

“I’m free,” Ben volunteered.

“Three years old,” Annette said. “Imagine that.”

In the examining room, Annette swabbed the back of Rebecca’s throat. “The strep test will take seven minutes,” she said. “Then Dr. Gross will be in.”

While we waited, Johnny and Ben took turns leaping from the round, rolling doctor’s stool to the examining table. “Look, Mom,” Johnny said. “I’m a Rescue Hero.”

“Be careful, Rescue Hero,” I warned.

“I’m a Rescue Hero, too,” Ben said.

When Dr. Gross walked in, he smiled at the boys. “Someone in this room has strep,” he said. “I guess that would be Miss Rebecca.”

“I’m a Rescue Hero,” Ben told the doctor.

“Good job, Rescue Hero,” Dr. Gross replied.

After examining Rebecca, Dr. Gross prescribed some antibiotics. “If anyone else in the family gets a sore throat within the next week, just let us know. We’ll call in another prescription so you don’t have to come back in.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Good bye, Rescue Heroes,” Dr. Gross told the boys.

Within the week, Angela and Johnny were downing pink Amoxicillin liquid twice a day. “I hope Ben doesn’t get it,” I told Jack. “You know how well Ben takes medicine.”

Jack rolled his eyes. My youngest son hates medicine. The few times Ben has had to take medicine, Jack and I have had to hold him down and force the offending liquid down his throat. I’ve tried hiding the medicine in juice, in strawberry milk, in ice cream. Ben spits them all out.

Before I could worry too much about Ben getting strep, Jack got stomach flu. Saturday after Thanksgiving, we celebrated Rebecca’s 11th birthday. She invited four friends over for a “mini-spa” experience. The girls gave each other manicures and pedicures, and I gave them each a facial. Jack took Angela, Lucy, Johnny, and Ben to SeaWorld to get them out of the house.

When Jack and the kids got home, Jack walked into the house bent over like an old man. “I don’t feel good,” he told me. “I’m going upstairs.”

I didn’t see much of Jack for the next day or two. He lay in bed shivering with chills or burning with fever. The few times he ventured to the bathroom, I stayed far away. “Is Daddy sick?” Angela asked Sunday morning.

“Really sick,” I answered. “Pray he gets better.”

Monday after Thanksgiving, I took Ben to the doctor. “He’s got a little fever,” I told Annette. “And he says his throat hurts.”

Ben had strep. The doctor gave him a shot so he wouldn’t have to take medicine. Jack’s flu hung on a long time. He tried going back to work Tuesday but ended up back in bed on Wednesday. Tuesday night, Johnny threw up all over Jack’s and my bed. He threw up and ran a fever for the next two days. Thursday, I got a call from school. “Lucy just threw up in class,” the secretary told me. I left Johnny and Ben with Jack, who was still home, and drove to school to pick up Lucy.

I found Lucy in the office looking pale and sheepish. “I’m so sorry you’re sick, sweetie,” I told her. “Did you make it to the bathroom?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Thank God. Let’s go to your class and get your backpack.”

In Lucy’s classroom, Coach B., the PE teacher, was scrubbing out the bathroom with a bucket and a mop. “She told me she made it to the bathroom,” I whispered to Coach B.

“She made it to the bathroom all right,” he whispered back. “She just didn’t make it to the toilet. I’ve never seen a kid throw up so much.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

On the drive home, Lucy asked, “How long till Christmas?”

“About three weeks,” I answered.

“Will we be better by then?”

“I hope so.”

Sponsored
Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

First Cow: mooving picture

Carve out a culinary slice of the American dream
Next Article

Puerto’s “Lineas” is worthy of active listening

“The instrumental suite pays homage to the happiness that creativity grants an individual”
Comments
0

Be the first to leave a comment.

Sign in to comment

Sign in

Art Reviews — W.S. Di Piero's eye on exhibits Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Best Buys — San Diego shopping Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits City Lights — News and politics Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Famous Former Neighbors — Next-door celebs Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town Here's the Deal — Chad Deal's watering holes Just Announced — The scoop on shows Letters — Our inbox [email protected] — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Of Note — Concert picks Out & About — What's Happening Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Pour Over — Grab a cup Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer News — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Set 'em Up Joe — Bartenders' drink recipes Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Sports — Athletics without gush Street Style — San Diego streets have style Suit Up — Fashion tips for dudes Theater Reviews — Local productions Theater antireviews — Narrow your search Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Waterfront — All things ocean Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close