Guess We Spoke Too Soon

One should, I have learned, not be too optomistic when it comes to the Swine Flu. A week post-flu has only brought a surge of other bugs that, the pediatrician explained to me, charge forth while someone's resistance is down due to the flu.

A cold had been lingering behind Bear's flu experience, not particularly bad as colds go, but certainly a nuisance to a busy little boy hoping to get back into his usual activities. I am doubly glad, now, that we forewent outdoor trick or treating last night in favor of a Halloween party at Alyeska Ski Resort in Girdwood, as I am sure the 17 degree weather would have made things worse.

As it was, Bear ate no candy yesterday and still had a stomach-ache by bedtime. Thinking it was the way he scarfed down a grilled cheese and fries with friends at our favorite Girdwood eatery, Yukon and I thought little of it. But around midnight (well, 11 p.m. after we set the clocks back) the desperate sound of "Mommy!" reached us in the living room. Yep, a big mess insued and thus another hour of cleaning, changing, and mopping up evidence of the newest bug to hit our child.

Fortunately an isolated incident, there was no more throw-us-uppus but Bear slept in until 10:30 a.m. and is still lounging in his bed, watching the portable DVD player (I throw away all pre-conceptions about this thing; I love it for sick kids) with a 101 temperature.

Since we all had a noticable lack of sleep last night, we skipped church (they were probably glad to not have us there spreading germs, anyway). Yukon has taken advantage of a Sunday at home to try and snag a new television at Costco and I am staying home making a big pot of soup and, once again, sanitizing the entire house, removing Halloween decorations, and drinking coffee.

Pending any further illnesses on the part of the family, I am sure we all will we be functional by Christmas.

With the Cold Comes the Croup

After a valiant effort by Bear at the Tuesday Night Race Series, at which he ran a tough up-and-down course through the woods for a mile, the little soldier is now down and out with croup. It has been an interesting few days, with more barking around here than the dog pound. All indications are for a smooth recovery however, despite a shot of steroids to open the breathing passages and make life more comfortable. Fortunately, Yukon walked over from his office to the pediatrician's and was the Bear-wrangler for that.

I don't actually mind a sick child sometimes; long nights and clingy-ness notwithstanding. It gives me pause, to have to remain home with no agenda but that which I plan out from the kitchen table over coffee. Catch up on laundry, clean out under the bathroom sink, cook a chicken.

At least the weather is still nice; crisp and cold but clear. Might change tonight as snow/rain showers could be making their way over the mountains.

Autumn Upon Our Return

Somehow in the short 10 days we were away from Alaska, it became full-fledged autumn. Not only are the trees vibrant yellow, but the snow is on top of the mountains and rapidly descending. Dang. Guess I had better do more than talk about getting the winter gear out of storage.

Our last few days in Portland were uneventful, thank goodness. A baby shower for my sister, a trip downtown to ride a streetcar, simple things that are easier when one feels up to doing them. My body appears to be on the healing track, although I am still sore and tired. Yukon says my brain needs to heal as well, since I made myself believe I was dying. Psych self out - that's me.

We arrived home to find the house meticulously cleaned by the dog-sitter. She earned our eternal admiration and respect for staying with a dog that on the first day made her think he was going to chew up her ankles and bark until her eardrums broke. A three-day adjustment period later and the two were inseparable. The photos are examples of her thoughtfulness and dedication to her dog-families; she laid out pillows for Jasper's comfort and ambiance, and even cleaned my bathroom downstairs! How often do you come home to the toilet paper folded up in a little triangle? Not often. She's hired forever.

We are happy to be home, happy to be in Alaska where life is slower and the frenetic pace, even in Portland, is slower and seemingly unaffected by recent world/national events. Kind of nice to worry about simple, life-things; wood for the fire, putting the gardens to bed, keeping moose out of the ornamental bushes, that sort of stuff.

I am drinking tea and watching the rain fall outside my window.

An Unwanted Momento From Portland

I just woke up from a three-hour nap, finally sleeping after an exhausting, frightening, and painful few days.

On Tuesday night, after a wonderful celebration for Father-in-Law's 91st birthday, my lower stomach began aching in a most dreadful way, becoming progressively worse on Wednesday. Prompted to return from work early, Yukon found an acceptable ER to visit, and we spent a few quality hours there together before the diagnosis of an ovarian cyst was made. Today I am embraced by a Vicodin-induced euphoria, hanging out at the in-law's condo while Bear is at the Zoo visiting a baby elephant with his auntie and grandma.

I am in debt for life to the incredible nursing and physician staff at Providence Milwaukee, Ore. Besides listening to and empathizing with my rising sense of panic as such tests as blood draws and CAT scans were ordered, they also congregated in my little room with Yukon and I to discuss Alaskan politics. Yukon and I were of course happy to do our part for the election effort.

For those inclined to worry; don't. I am fine, or will be as soon as the thing goes away. At least I get to read books all day with no interruptions.

The Morning Sickness - Sickness

Made you look, didn't I?

This was the only way I could aptly describe the ill that has been sweeping among our friends, and now myself, this past week. Since last Saturday I have been stricken to the confines of the bed, couch, and on one occasion, floor, as the nasty bug knocked me flat.
Poor Yukon was, of course, assigned to all aspects of home management, which he performed admirably. There is nothing like watching a daddy do mommy stuff with mommy watching, however.
"Uh, dear, he's playing outside in his underwear."
"Did you give them anything resembling vegetables tonight?"
"Sweetie, please do not let Bear eat jalapeno Cheetos for dinner, even if he wants them."
I believe one night Bear went to bed around 11 p.m. (you must remember that is when it gets dark around here now). Dad and Wolf stayed up and watched "Wild Wild West, the Series". Mom, Mom who?
I remember when I was a kid and my mother would go somewhere on a Saturday, or when she was sick, Dad would make the two things he knew how to in the kitchen; cheese sandwiches with butter and scrambled eggs. Then we had to go with him to clean the garage.
I think the jalepeno Cheetos - outside in your underwear thing sounds a whole lot better, don't you?

Perspective of Winter Ills

I have been remiss in my postings due to some winter bug I picked up, likely from the children.

Being sick with a fever and chills when the temperature is in the single digits is no fun, especially when one still has the daily duties to accomplish. Fortunately, Wolf was a trooper yesterday, helping out with Bear and had only one lapse in judgment when he dialed up his old friend in South Carolina without asking. At least he didn't dial up our friends in England.

Noticing how much more difficult even routine tasks are when ill made me think about some of my past clients' lives in Alaska before too many physicians, antibiotics, and other helps were available.

One woman, a tough little lady even now, at age 88, was born in a remote homestead cabin down in Kenai to parents who shot or grew everything the family ate. Not a problem in the summer. But in the winter, the family, out of fresh vegetables (rarely any other fruit than berries) relied on beans, bread, bacon, or whatever else they could stock up on infrequent trips to town.

If someone got sick, she said, Mother got out the natural remedies from the Native women in the area. Herbs were used for fevers, as salves, boiled with honey for coughs, and people relied on them if they did not have money for the "cures" sold at the store. But no antibiotics for strep throat or ear infections, or for even worse afflictions like diptheria or whooping cough, which could spread by visitors to the cabin.

If mom or dad got sick, chores still had to be completed. I found out real quick this morning that if the snow is not shoveled, it is nearly impossible to catch up after a time, as it packs like cement. Likewise with the wood stove. Who will stoke it if I don't?

Our family has developed a healthy respect for these homesteaders. Many of them have proclaimed to me that they really were pretty healthy most of the time; an abundance of fresh air and good food in the summer seemed to keep their immune systems working. Plus, many have said, Alaska was so sparse as far as population was concerned, that one did not see too many other people and thus did not spread illness like we do now.

Oh yeah, and the Cod Liver Oil. How could I forget that? Those of you who were force fed this concoction as children are screwing up your faces right now, aren't you?