Yesterday, I wore a skirt to work. At some point in the afternoon, I looked down and noticed some little red bumps near my knee. They looked like insect bites, but at the same time, they didn’t. I pondered for a moment and couldn’t stop the chicken pox from popping into my head. I dismissed it, though—what are the odds that I could have come in contact with chicken pox? Practically ZERO. Then I forgot all about it…
…Until this morning, when I got an email from my mother informing me that she was diagnosed with shingles yesterday.
Now, I am trying to put puzzle pieces together. I have felt exceptionally lousy all week—splitting headache all day on Monday, no energy, etc.—things that I previously dismissed as stress. Add to that some mysterious-blister-like red bumps on my leg, and I am really wondering.
Could I possibly have chicken pox? I am one of those freaky kids who never got chicken pox—it’s not as if it would be unheard of for me to be able to catch it—especially given how much time my mom and I spend together.
But really—chicken pox? No way. Not possible. I am supposed to be in Lake Tahoe next week at a conference. I can’t have the freaking chicken pox.