My chickenpox quarantine

One of the many “oddities” about me is that I have never had chickenpox. I know! I am a middle-aged woman with 5 sisters, all of whom have had the childhood disease – with me living in the same house. Yet, somehow, I managed to escape infection

As a child, this wasn’t a big deal, as I didn’t fancy a week of itchy red spots and calamine lotion. (Although I would have loved the Jell-O and missing school.) But then I had my spleen removed when I was in my 20s, and subsequent antibody checks revealed I had no immunity. And suddenly, not having chickenpox as a child became a theoretical problem. Because getting chickenpox as an asplenic individual can be very dangerous.

You see, the spleen acts as a giant filter for your blood, playing a massive role in your immune system by fighting off bacteria and helping your body recognise and attack viral invaders. Because I have no natural immunity and no spleen to help my immune response, the Varicella-Zoster virus (the bug behind chickenpox) isn’t just an inconvenience – it’s a serious health risk that can lead to dangerous complications like severe pneumonia or encephalitis (brain swelling).

All of that means I am generally very aware of my infection risks. I have had various varicella contingencies over the years – including a plan to inoculate the children my late husband and I hoped to adopt, so that we could remove some uncertainty. Unexpected widowhood meant that contingency never came to fruition, and I’ve just been living on hope and luck since then.

However, I’ve always had a plan in mind: If I find myself with chickenpox, I will call the doctor immediately. And if I am exposed to chickenpox, I will call the doctor immediately. So, basically, my plan was simple: Call the doctor immediately.

And that’s what happened when I received a text from my friend. Well, I didn’t call the doctor immediately. First, I called my friend to clarify the situation. They hadn’t realised I wasn’t immune and were just sharing a casual bit of news about their recent bout of shingles, which led to their partner’s chickenpox infection. Neither infection was “recognised” until after the three of us spent a full day in close contact.

Yikes! For an ordinary adult, getting chickenpox for the first time can be rough. But for me, it triggered immediate alarm bells. And that meant putting my plan into action.

Step 1: Call the medical professionals

I didn’t wait around for symptoms. The moment I was off the phone with my friend, I phoned my doctor (GP). I had to explain the situation to the receptionist who promised a doctor would call back within the hour (and he did).

The GP was incredibly calm but took the situation very seriously – not just because of the asplenia but also because of my low kidney function. Because my case fell outside the standard “stay home and take paracetamol” protocol, they told me they needed to consult a specialist right away.

About an hour later, my GP called me back. They had consulted a hospital virologist – a specialist who lives and breathes virus behaviour – to map out a battle plan. Because the incubation period for chickenpox can be anywhere from 10 to 21 days, and because my body is missing a key piece of its immune armour, two directives were issued: Quarantine and medicine.

The quarantine was the most frustrating (but necessary) part of the plan to keep others safe. The virologist requested that I isolate myself for a couple of weeks because chickenpox is incredibly contagious even before the rash appears. And because an infection could land me in the hospital, I had to stay put to protect both myself and the vulnerable people around me.

Of course, that meant cancelling my in-person work meetings for a couple of weeks – the social plans I’d made. However, I am quite accustomed to spending long periods of time alone, so that wasn’t a problem. But having to stay home was hard because the weather was nice and I wanted to be out and about. (I did sneak out for a run towards the end of the isolation period because I felt confident that I wouldn’t see another human on my rural, early-morning route.)

Step2: Prophylactic antivirals

Instead of waiting to see if I developed the signature rash, I was immediately prescribed a course of strong antiviral medication (aciclovir), which I began taking one week post-exposure. The goal was simple: if the virus was trying to replicate inside my system, the antivirals would throw a wrench in the gears, preventing it from overwhelming my body.

Antivirals are generally only prescribed in extraordinary circumstances, which includes my situation. However, due to my severely decreased kidney function, I could not have a full dose of the medication. Instead, I was given a half-dose and told what to look out for in terms of side effects from the medication and symptoms of chickenpox.

I am pleased to say that I didn’t have any issues with the medication. There were no noticeable side effects, and as it was just a simple tablet, it wasn’t even a challenge to chug it down with my regular tolvaptan routine.

So, basically, all of my Great Big Fears about what might happen if I was ever exposed to chickenpox turned out to be no big deal. However, that’s because I didn’t come down with chickenpox. I’ll still need to be careful in the future, and I will need to launch into action if it happens again. But at least this time, I won’t be worried about my doctors trying to brush me off.

But for now, I am pox-free, and I really must get out of the house. I need groceries and human contact! And probably a few geocaches.