Freedom

This morning, the thumb and forefinger of my right hand gripped the little turn knob tightly on this lighted lamp and, successfully, as you can see, rotated it to the on position.

For the first time since May 18th, 47 days, when I was in mind and mood, if not in the desert, the scrubland border.

That’s what’s required to turn on this decades-old, creaky light fixture. It’s been my talisman to monitor recovery from the worst viral infection of my eight-decade life that attacked my whole body, head to toe, but especially my hands.

This was my right hand on day 12 of a Coxsackie virus infection, better known as Hand, Foot and Mouth disease.

I’ve had hundreds of colds, dozens of bouts of flu, as a kid, measles, mumps, chicken pox, and Hepatitis B, shingles in 2000, and COVID five years ago. But nothing quite like this microbe in duration.

Origin

Three days after I picked up this moving van from an outlet in southwest Iowa, I began to feel bumps on the back of my neck.

I had twice shaken the manager’s hand and used the bathroom at his service station. As I recall, I did not wash my hands, either because there was no soap or my own laziness. This bug lives on surfaces and can also be transmitted through the air by sneezing.

(During the COVID year, I was often sloppy with my mask, letting it slip below my nose. And, of course, the sloppy handwashing. Inevitably, that pathogen eventually struck, in Romania. I tell that story here.

Over the past month and a half, during this ordeal, I’ve never washed my hands more often, including this morning.)

From the back of my neck, the rash quickly spread down my arms.

And then into the palms of my hands, something rare, which is why my doctor diagnosed Hand, Foot and Mouth. And then down my legs to the top of my feet. Not, thank goodness, into my mouth.

My Body’s Defenses

About a week into this assault, I felt my body had become a battlefield. Red splotches appeared everywhere. Some turned into blisters. My hands began to swell, and my fingers lost their strength and dexterity.

Which also meant, well, remember the U-Haul. I had picked it up because we were moving some of Rebecca’s furniture from her home, five hours away, which she had sold, to our other home in Decorah, where we’ve lived together for many years. Our plan was for me to return and help with the move.

That was now impossible, as I was infectious and sick. Fortunately, the house’s closing date allowed enough time for my illness to run its course until it was safe for her to return. But I had lived in her home and community for fifteen years, and we had looked forward to closing this chapter together.

But pathogens don’t care about any of that. Nor, fortunately, did my body’s immune system, which mounted one defense after another, starting with mast cells that release histamine, which increases blood flow to the infected areas to help battle the disease. I’m guessing that when this army arrived at my hands, it found a dug-in opponent. In the many battles fought on this terrain, reinforcements were necessary, thus causing the swelling.

About halfway through this hardship, my doctor ordered a blood test to monitor what was going on. Coxsackie usually fades away after about a week, and that was not happening. The test showed a very high level of eosinophils, cells that fight infections. This persistence was my body’s way of saying the job was not yet done.

Especially at night, every part of me felt inflamed, a sort of low-level itch, all over but especially in my hands. For example, if I ran hot water over them — this was central command of the invading army — I felt a warmth that was quite sensual. Very strange. Unfortunately, this made sleeping very difficult, as I would move from a chair to a couch and then, finally, to my bed.

I kept reminding myself that my body was on high alert and each symptom — the redness and inflammation, the blisters, the swelling, the tiredness, the restlessness — was my body at war.

My hands

Two days ago, a blood test showed my eosinophil level was normal, indicating my immune system has returned to a peacetime state. I’m sleeping through the night, and Rebecca is back in our Decorah home. My energy level has returned to the normal baseline for my 77 years. Both hands have a bit of neuropathy that seems to be less every day. I’ll continue to employ the lamp switch test, but I’m hopeful it will no longer be necessary in a week or so.

And, yes, I now wash them almost as many times a day as I should.

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