The Importance of a Touch

This will be the most difficult week ever.

Two nights ago I felt a small bump on my eye lid, which last night started tingling.  Oh great! who gets a zit on their eye lid?  When I woke up this morning, I went to the urgent care since the tingling had escalated to a burning sensation.  After a short wait, as I was the first patient to get there after they opened, I saw the doctor and she told me that I had shingles.

Shingles comes from the chickenpox virus and it comes out during times of stress.  Oh yes, have I been under quite a bit of stress.  The kind of stress that tires you out and no amount of sleep can make up for it.  Not that I’ve gotten much sleep anyways.  Another thing about shingles is that I cannot touch anyone who hasn’t had the chickenpox yet, or risk giving it to them.  Now I have a three year old and a one year old who have not had chickenpox.  Ahhh, yes.  I am their primary care taker and I just love hugging, kissing, cuddling and holding them.

A little over a year ago, I woke up in the morning to Trystan crying.  He had been sleeping in his toddler bed and hadn’t really cried much recently.  He usually just wakes up and goes into our room, then climbs into bed with us.  I got up out of bed and walked across the hall into his room.  He was laying in his bed wearing a red onesie with yellow stripes and he smelled of poop.  Oh, poor kid.  I grabbed the wipes and the diapers and proceeded to unzip his onesie only to discover that the poop had gone up his back, down his legs and basically everywhere.  If he slept through the whole ordeal, onesie would have marinated my poor little chicken in peas, corn, grit and sauce.  I quickly carried him to the bathroom like a hot potato.  He continued to cry.  I took his onesie off, carefully keeping the marinade from leaking and put it in the sink.  He cried.  I started the shower and adjusted the temperature.  He cried and started walking towards me with arms outstretched.  I put my hand on his head and arched my body to create the farthest distance between me and him. “No!!! Stay right there!  Ahhh.” I said firmly with the emotion of “ew” (disgust) unconceale-able in my voice.  He cried, and looked me in the eyes.  I saw it in his brown innocent baby eyes and my disgust melted.  “Wait!” I said as I quickly undressed and gave him a hug.  I held my baby for a moment rubbing his slick and gritty back, holding him close to me until his crying settled down a bit.  Then I carried him into the shower to wash him off.

This morning, I saw the same look in Zoey’s eyes when she came to give me a hug as I curled up on the couch.  This is going to be a tough week.

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