Lessons from Chicken Pox

Old folks say - and proven by doctors - that there's one way to prevent chicken pox: you have to get chicken pox first so you can become immune. It's a sort of catch-22. But there's a plausible reason. I was a junior high school student when I came down with chicken pox. After three weeks of suffering, I do not worry anymore if I  get nearer to someone who has. I simply do not develop the infection even if I catch the virus. As a former medical technologist, I studied basics of Immunology, which is all about the immune system. I have learned a great deal of technical explanations behind the reason of this immunity to chicken pox.

Chicken pox is caused by a virus known as Varicella-Zoster. A virus, as we have understood it, is a microbe, yet different from bacteria. If a bacteria is as big as a cow, a virus is as tiny as an ant. Again, in the old days, they say that among all chicken pox rashes - which look like acne - that grow in a patient's body, there's this very large, conspicuous rash old folks call "nanay" (mother). It is said to be the mother of all rashes. This nanay can be somehow unpredictable - it might grow in any part of the patient's body. My uncle used to have one some years ago. Unfortunately, nanay grew on the tip of his nose. I think his pockmark is still visible to this day.

Chickenpox, like some viral infections, is self-limiting. It regresses and disappears naturally because of the body's way of fighting infection. During the course of infection, the body creates its own defense. And since microbes like virus are ubiquitous, like dust, we cannot really avoid them. Microbes in general can enter the body through food and air. But our bodies possess a system that prevents and combats any "foreign" intrusion.

Our immune system, though extensively complex and intricate in function, is often associated with antigens and antibodies. These two differ from each other, and somehow compliment in the process of immunity. Antigens are actually protein substances with unique make-up to distinctly identify an organism. They are like molecular fingerprints. In a sense, anything that comes outside of a particular body system is an antigen. In this case, a microbe is an antigen, since its not inherently part of the human body. Once the body recognizes an antigen, it prompts a group of white blood cells, called phagocytes,  to prevent further invasion of microbes that enters the body. Always on guard, these cells act like Pac-man, a classic video game character, wherein they engulf any microbes around and digest them into weak antigens. These weak antigens, in turn, will be used by another group of cells, known as lymphocytes, to create molecular substances called antibodies. Antibodies become the "memory" of the body, which reminds it to recognize the same intrusive antigen. So before a particular microbe reproduces exponentially, the antibody neutralizes it. Thus, the infection is completely stopped. Since I had chicken pox, I now have antibodies that makes me immune to it.  This entire natural mechanism is possible because of the antigen-antibody interaction. 

Like the seemingly "war" inside the body, there is something similar that happens in the soul. There are antigens that can attack us: all life's difficulties, from petty problems like lost car key, to major tragic events like financial loss and death. Through these unwanted experiences, we easily develop emotional infections. Among them are anger, depression, guilt, frustrations, and impatience. We often reject them as curses. (Interestingly, pox was believed as curse during the medieval times.)  These infections are contagious. If someone is infected with, say, anger, we can easily catch it. We, too, become easily angered. We bring the bad mood throughout the day. This proves that misery really loves company. Of course, any miserable experience is unpleasant. But, this is another catch-22 insight: if we catch an infection, we now have a great opportunity to become immune. 

Health doesn't mean an absence of disease, but the capacity to heal. This inspires us to look deeper to our life's antigens. They are ubiquitous, and we seem to find them ready to attack us. But our soul has its own healing system. Even if we develop emotional infections, we can still create antibodies of insights. There is just a slight difference - our physical immunity does it involuntarily; on the other hand, we must actively choose for our soul's healing process to take place. Any curse that might inflict us is always a chance of the soul to be immune, through the wisdom of understanding. We will eventually realize that nothing in life is an enemy; those antigens complement the antibodies within. Thus, anything we think as a curse becomes a blessing.

Each life antigen alarms our ingrained arrogance that life is something externally predictable we can easily control, but it is otherwise. Antigens uncontrollably exist everywhere and they are not enemies. They compliment to this intelligent interconnections of our souls. They are transformed into "memories" of wisdom, rather than memories of fear. On the surface level, a big "pockmark" of our past is visible, a reminder of a deep suffering yet also a mark of an inner transformation. Our souls have learned to acknowledge that any emotional infection is an opportunity to add zest to soulful healing.

Chicken pox is a simple metaphor that reminds us that Love really works in great paradoxes: once we open our vulnerability to the seemingly risky world outside, our inner world becomes more empowered to live life to the fullest.

"The Pox" -photo by Chimchim