Chicken Pox

Children used to get sick a lot with things you don't hear much about anymore. Mumps. Measles. Chicken Pox.

“What’s that?” you ask. Is it like bird flu? Do you get it from Chickens? No, no, Chicken pox is one of those things that used to be so common that no one thought much about it and now, thanks to vaccines, you don’t have to get it.

In the early 1950s, there were only four vaccines: diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis and smallpox. It seemed as if we always got a shot when we went to the doctor's but we didn't get as much protection as you do now.

Before I went to school, before we moved to Spring Valley, we lived in a little house on Auburn Road in the Westmoreland area of Huntington. That's when I got chicken pox.

There were a lot of children running around Auburn Road in the 50’s. Everyone passed contagious diseases back and forth, so if parents heard that someone had something like chicken pox, they just expected their child to get it too. In fact, some parents would send their child over to play with a sick child just “to get it over with”.

Chicken pox starts out feeling like a bad cold – you don’t know it’s going to be chicken pox until the spots break out. By the time they start popping out, you’ve probably given the pox to everyone you play with. The spots start out on your tummy. Each spot is an itchy little blister. Everyone says “Don’t scratch!” If you scratch you can have a permanent scar, but how can you help it? It REALLY itches! Pretty soon there are little red pox all over your whole body.

When I got chicken pox, it was summer time. No one had air conditioning and it was hot. The kids on Auburn Road played outside almost all day. I could hear them running and laughing and calling to each other while I had to lie in bed – and itch.

The worst thing was hearing the bells on the ice cream truck and not being able to go out. Every day in the summer a man would bring the ice cream cart through the neighborhood. He pedaled it along like a bicycle and rang a string of bells to announce his arrival. In the box in front were cold treats – Popsicles and push ups and cream sickles and fudge sickles. All the kids would run home to see if they could beg a dime for a treat. Then everyone would mob around the cart while those lucky enough to be able to buy made their choice. Popsicles came in different flavors – orange and cherry and grape – and came with two sticks in a package so if your friend got one, they might break one off and share… and siblings were always expected to share! Not only did they provide a sweet cold taste, but they also turned your mouth orange or purple or red. Mothers always told you to be careful and not to drip, but the boys always got colorful stains on their white tee shirts.

I just lay in bed crying when the ice cream truck went by. Nothing seemed to stop the horrible itching – not the pink calamine lotion that dried and flaked off my skin, not the terrible slimy oatmeal bath I had to soak in. The pox swelled up and broke open and crusted. And I did have to scratch. (and yes, there were little white scars later on) My friends came to the open window and called in to me but I wasn’t allowed to play with any one until there was no more fever.

Finally the pox started to dry up. Finally I was allowed outside again. It seemed as if I’d been sick forever (but it was really only about a week). I ran to join the kids playing on the sidewalk under the shade of a tree that had tilted sections of the concrete with its roots. Somehow we began being chickens because I’d had chicken pox, clucking and flapping our wings and pretending to walk like chickens. An older woman was walking down the sidewalk and gave us a withering look, but no one minded that. I just felt so glad to be outside playing again that I was light headed with it. I leapt around and pumped my arms up and down for wings and hollered my “cluck cluck” s louder than anyone.