In 1982, a fifteen-year-old girl woke up one morning covered head to toe in angry, red spots. Back then, chickenpox was considered a childhood rite of passage. The varicella vaccine wouldn’t be routinely given to kids in the U.S. until 1995, and most children caught it between the ages of 4 and 10.
But this girl — who would soon earn the nickname “Spotty” from her friends and family — had never been one to conform. Outwardly, she seemed like any other teen. Underneath? A quiet rebel… even in sickness.
Military kids usually see a pediatrician until around their 16th birthday, when care transitions to a flight surgeon or primary care provider. For reasons unknown to Spotty, her care had already switched to the flight surgeon by the time the outbreak occurred.
Why does this matter? Because when her mom rushed her in for an appointment, the flight surgeon — used to treating adult ailments — stared at her spots in confusion. Unsure of the cause, he promptly referred her back to the pediatrician.
Even the pediatrician was puzzled at first. Allergic reaction? No. Chickenpox? Unlikely, even amid a varicella outbreak. Finally, the verdict came in: rubella — German measles. How she caught it, despite being up to date on her MMR vaccine and with no other known cases in her social circle, remains a mystery.
Along with the rash came fever, fatigue, and a severe case of crankiness. Worse still, the outbreak hit at the end of her sophomore year — right before final exams. Skipping them would mean zeros across the board and the risk of repeating the grade.
So, Spotty did the unthinkable: she returned to school, lesions and all.
For a teenage girl, vanity is everything, and the idea of walking through the halls like a human connect-the-dots amidst all the cute boys was horrifying. Armed with layers of make-up, she tried to camouflage the spots. But some things Cover Girl, Maybelline, and Revlon can’t hide. Most people probably noticed the rash before they even recognized the face beneath it.
If there was a silver lining, it was the size of her school — only about 780 students. By sophomore year, she’d already been there three years (starting as an 8th grader in one of the last classes to do so), so she daily crossed paths with far more friends than strangers.
If anyone bullied her, she doesn’t remember. What she does have is proof in the form of yearbook signatures —friends good-naturedly offering condolences, best wishes for a cure, and plenty of Dalmatian jokes.
And that’s how a high school sophomore, a baffled doctor, and a stubborn case of rubella turned into a story worth telling decades later.
Her classmates may have forgotten the final exams that year. But they still remember her by the name she earned in those spotted, feverish days:
Spotty the Girl.
Until Next Time,
Becky J Miller
Warrior Princess
*Visual interpretation generated with AI tools (ChatGPT + DALL·E by OpenAI), August 2025, based on “Spotty The Girl” by Becky J Miller.