At risk

Danny has chicken pox, discovered on Friday afternoon. He stayed with us on Thursday night so as my blood counts and immunity are currently at their lowest in the most recent chemo phase, I am now at risk. As if I wasn't before but there you go.

I called the hospital and they just said look out for symptoms and then let them know. I have of course had Chicken pox and nursed each of my four kids with it but it's a funny old herpes riddled thing and can trigger all sorts apparently. The trouble is Danny is a very hands on sort of chap and he likes to share his body fluids quite liberally. He will hand me a kazoo, an instrument he plays with child prodigy type skill, with spit and snot attached and expect me to try to play as well as him; I fail of course but pick up his leavings as I do.

Anyway the spotty boy is now banned from this afternoon's double celebration of Easter and Luke and Aleks' first wedding anniversary. As Aleks is one of his favourite people (and the feeling is mutual) it's a sad expulsion but his other Nanny will step into the breach, feed him Easter eggs and mop up his pox laden messes. We will do Danny-less chicken related activities like egg hunts and self inflicted stuffing with pea veloute, venison casserole and chocolate cheesecake, all cooked by other people not me. Well I am at risk and need to summon my defences; chocolate eggs and champagne may well feature in the risk management activities so I expect no shingles, cold sores or other unmentionables to invade my shell or burst my bubble.