I am home sick today, slowly withering away from strep throat, and there is nobody at home with me right now because we sent my daughter to school today and my husband works nights, so basically they’re all going to be sorry when they get home because I’m going to be dead and then they’ll have to cook their own dinner.
I’m sorry, was that a little bit melodramatic? Let me rephrase: When they get home they MIGHT be sorry because they’ve left me alone to POSSIBLY die all by myself and then they’ll WISH they made their own dinner because I’m going to share the love by COUGHING ALL OVER EVERYTHING.
Bwahaha. Now please excuse me for a moment while I go lie down until the elephants stop throwing a rave inside my skull.
Nobody likes being sick, of course, but I am particularly bad at it. I can’t stand being idle, not even for a few hours, not even when I have to be. Well, okay, that’s not true — I very much enjoy being idle when I am on vacation somewhere, lying on a beach with access to large quantities of freshly-sliced mango and vats of piña coladas.
But our health insurance does not cover an in-patient stay at Crossroads Centre for recovery from strep throat, and anyway, I’m not going to be able to get a piña colada at rehab.
When my doctor told me yesterday that she wanted me to stay home from work for at least 24 hours, it was like a punishment. What would I do with myself for that long? I can’t get my brain to shut off long enough for me to actually rest and heal. I slept until 11:00 today, and when I woke up my first thought after “Do we have any cough drops?” was “What can I try to get done while I’m home?” But the answer was “UUUURECGH!” because just drinking Gatorade wore me right back out. I needed to take a nap after taking a shower, and the whole time, I dreamed about getting swallowed up by piles of laundry.
So in addition to worrying about whether I will ever be able to eat solid foods again — because of course, since I can’t swallow anything, all I want to eat right now is crispy fried chicken and egg rolls and Doritos — I am also worried about all the other stuff that needs to get done, but which I just can’t do right now. If I could even get the wash from the second floor of our house down to the basement where the washing machine is, which is doubtful to begin with, I already know there is no way I’d make it back upstairs.
And if I die tonight, it is NOT going to be in the basement of this house with the millipedes and the cat litter boxes and the 40,000 pairs of unwashed socks.
There have been two upsides to this. One is that my is that my husband doesn’t have to listen to me complaining about how much I hate exercising, because I don’t have the energy to do Pilates right now, and even if I did, I’d never make it all the way through a workout anyway. So he gets some peace and quiet…for the rest of the week at least.
The other is the daughter has gotten pretty much everything she wanted for the last two days, at least as far as I am concerned. Her dinner last night was three peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, a cup of tomato soup, and a juice box. Tonight she got chicken nuggets, french fries, and a chocolate milkshake, plus a pack of fruit snacks and a granola bar. They way I figure, at least she is eating stuff that is recognizable as a food-type substance and not, say, Cheez-Whiz-covered crayons.
She’ll have plenty of time to eat that stuff when I’m dead. This might be sooner than later, because this sore throat isn’t getting any better. And these elephants seem to want to keep on dancing.
[author] [author_image timthumb=’on’]http://www.40momsclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/rachelage2-a1.jpg[/author_image] [author_info]About the Author
Rachel Gonzales (aka “rockle”) is a 40MomsClub.com regular Lifestyle contributor. She is the actual child in her profile picture, which was taken in 1976, so it probably goes without saying that mistakes were made. You can read more of her here on 40MomsClub, or on her blog, rockle-riffic. [/author_info][/author]