Germtastic

Those of you who know me well are already aware of the fact that I am a germ-a-phobe.  To-the-extreme.  I carry Germ-X in my purse and have a big bottle of it in my car.  My kids know that the first thing they do when they walk in the door is wash the hands.  My own hands are normally dry and cracked from my obsessive/compulsive behavior (attractive, huh?).  In my defense, the cold weather doesn't help the dry hand situation.

This is an illness that stems from college.  As a Biology major, I think I took one too many classes and learned more than I needed to know about microbes, bacteria and viruses.  Microbiology.  Human Physiology.  Human Anatomy.  Genetics.  After changing my major to Biology my junior year, I simply didn't have time to take Pathophysiology, but man, I really wanted to.  Maybe I need to refer back to my Abnormal Psychology notes to diagnose myself.  Sometimes there is danger in knowing too much.  It may also be related to the horrific stomach bug I had the pleasure of experiencing when I was 8 months pregnant with the youngest.  That one lives on, and on, and on in my memory.  Anyhow....

So, rewind to last Wednesday night (insert annoying tape rewinding noise that my husband likes to make with his lips here)....I put the oldest to bed with a cough and cold.  I was pretty convinced she wasn't going to school the next day.  She just didn't feel well.  I went about my business, read my book, fell asleep...woke up to the youngest crying, "Mom, my tummy hurts."  Cough, cough.  Gag, gag.  "Go to the bathroom!", I yelled.  You know how the rest of the night went...and the next day.  Two sick kids with two different ailments.  Oh, but wait!  The kicker was...the husband was home sick, too!  Cold and fever.  Wha?

Lawdy, lawdy, Miss Claudie (that's what my NaNa used to say)!   If I would've had access to a biohazard suit, I would've been wearing it that day.  The germ-a-phobe in me just couldn't take it.  I wanted to run out of that house as fast as my freezing feet would take me.  (Did I mention that we woke up to a few inches of snow on the ground that morning?)  What does a girl do with a house full of sickos?  Why, clean, of course.  I scrubbed the bathrooms, the counters, the computer keyboards, washed the bedding, and washed the hands repeatedly.  I admit it.  I have issues.

I really wish I didn't have this affliction.  I can make myself sick just worrying about getting sick.  I'd go to the doc to talk about it, but I'm afraid of what I'll catch in the clinic.  Don't even ask me how many times I washed my hands in the physical therapy clinic when I was going through PT.  I'm sure the people in that place thought I was certifiably cuckoo.  And ya know what?  I'd have to agree with them.