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I
am going to have to scour my bible for information, because I really
wonder if that very first Christmas, all those years ago in Bethlehem,
involved germs, fever, and a bucket- just in case. I wonder if Mary and
Joseph, as they were be turned away at inn after inn, were taking turns
putting cool cloths on each other's heads to break the fever and if the
stable that night was punctuated with sounds of coughing. I am curious
if the shepherds, as they made their way towards the star- had to make a
few pit stops while they were sick in the sand? I
wonder all of this because Christmas to our family has become synonymous
with illness. Who can forget the Christmas of '96 when we threw up so
much that a mattress had to be left on the curb for the trash? We then
traveled to my parents where we infected my mom and dad and sister; and
spent most of the visit with everyone confined in bed. It goes on like
this every year. Just after the annual bedecking of my halls; the halls
become filled not with the sound of singing or laughing but of coughing,
whining, and vomiting. This
year, though, I thought we were home free. As all our friends and people
around us suffered through bouts with the flu and colds; we
remained healthy. I forced vitamins on everyone from my hubby to
the boys; choking down super-sized supplements myself and being smug
because it was all working out- we were not going to be sick this
Christmas- no sirree, this was going to go down in the Christmas
annuals- the Christmas where every member of my family was healthy as a
horse. "I
don't feel good." My youngest son told me yesterday when we all
went to the health club to exercise. He was going to swim in the heated
indoor pool with his brother and two of his best friends- one of his
favorite activities in the world. Usually, we had to bodily remove him
from the pool when it was time to go- this time, he could barely be
roused off the couch to leave."You'll feel better after you get a
bit of exercise." I urged. "Come on." By
the time we retrieved him from the pool area, he was shaking violently
and it was obvious by the high color on his cheeks that something was
wrong. Just a couple of days until Christmas and another holiday under
the influence of influenza; bacterial infection- the jury was out but
the result was the same- a listless holiday spent nursing the sick
and cleaning and disinfecting- hoping the rest of the family wouldn't
succumb to the old Grinchy illness that had once again made its way into
the bosom of our Christmas holiday. I
am not one to question God's timing but I have to wonder at a Savior's
birth which comes right smack dab in the middle of the cold an flu
season. For my family, at least, a nice June Christmas would mean
that there would be about a 99 percent chance of Yuletide health; a
December holy day usually translates to "holy smokes- we need
another bucket!" This
year, as I was calling the doctor for my youngest son to visit and get
on the prescribed round of medicine which would hopefully nurse him back
to health, I had the feeling of deja vu. I remembered wearing the same
red holiday Christmas sweater, the identical shiny black patent leather
boots- and sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office last
Christmas eve waiting for the doctor to see one of my children- or was
it me? The details were lost in an endless procession of
Christmas's past- all equally filled with horrific illnesses- and I
wonder now if I should ever know the happiness of a Christmas which does
not involve kleenex, ibuprofen, retching, fever, and strange barking
coughs in the night? It
doesn't seem likely. Next year, though, I am certain to do my best to
try to hold illness at bay. I promise myself that Christmas '04 is going
to be different- I am single handedly going to disinfect every square
inch our home, cars and feed my family such healthy, nutritious fare
that not since penicillin will a single force fend off more illness than
I. But for now, that Christmas future is a distant dream, and I have
sheets to wash bearing the reminder that once again, we aren't so lucky. Still,
a gal can dream; and I am dreaming of a healthy Christmas.....
just like the ones I've never known.
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