Generally, it takes me a day and a half to recognise or acknowledge that I am unwell. I am that stubborn. Or stupid, either way…because I DON’T GET SICK! The last time I was sick, I drove the forty minutes into work, got out of the car, crossed the car park and then burst into tears because I realised I was too sick to be there and I had to drive back home.
In this instance, it took a day and a night of shivering and sweating, and that horrible aching muscle feeling and stinging skin to admit that I’m actually the most unwell that I’ve been in years. I am as sick as a dog – although, in this house that would indicate that I hide under a chair 5 seconds before I vomit and then if nobody gets me out quick, I’m likely to eat that vomit, and 5 minutes later I’ll be tearing around the house again tormenting the cat. ‘Sick as a dog‘ works about as well as ‘sleeping like a baby‘…which back in the day in our family might mean a person who falls into an exhausted, teary, coma-like sleep 10 minutes before it’s time to leave to do school pick up. Stupid idioms.
When I’m sick I am so much fun: cranky (can you tell?), restless and frustrated with myself because I often dream of having enforced time out in bed with books, movies and drugs at my disposal. Am I allowed to admit that? Instead, I end up feeling guilty for being unproductive and (as it’s the school holidays and my stand down time) that I’m losing time and opportunities…to do what – I couldn’t tell you. The family tends to leave me quite alone…I can’t think why…or boss me around “Drink this!” “Eat this” “Watch this!” “Wake up!”….and inevitably I get the shits because all the things I can’t do: dishes, wiping the benches, washing clothes, cleaning up dog vomit, tend to just sit waiting for me to recover and do them. Mongrels. But this is not a ‘woe is me’ post, I don’t want your pity (I want my family’s!)…I’m only ranting, just amongst friends. OK?
Also, I can’t maintain my train of thought.
Really, it’s lucky I don’t get sick more often. Unlike the dog, but he gets away with it because he’s cute. And he cleans up after himself.
How crazy are you when you’re sick?