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Oh, It’ s Tuesday: What Kind of Sick Person Are You?
My whole family has a terrible cold. The baby has it. My MIL has it. CH has it, and perhaps, worse of all, I have it. I say worse of all, because I rarely get sick. The last time I came down with anything beyond a mild 2-day sinus infection was back in 2006. And as anyone who has ever known me during this time will tell you, I’m not a good sick person.
CH is a great sick person, very stoic about the whole situation, makes himself some Theraflu and goes about his business with grim determination.
My MIL retires to her room when she’s sick, submitting to the healing glow of Food Network and HGTV, and only coming out for food and a bit of company.
My ear-infection prone baby is pretty used to this by now. She doesn’t let any virus stop her play and the only way you’d know she was sick is her sudden touchiness and her need to snuggle with you while wrapped in her security blanket every half hour or so.
As a reward for their good behavior, all three of them get sick all the time, seemingly catching every virus and cold that comes strolling by.
I, on the other hand, am … not that great when I get sick. I become impatient and snappish. I remind folks about every ten minutes or so that I’m sick. I resent everyone and everything. I wonder out loud if this sickness could be indicative of a bigger disease, since I never get sick. I become angry, because I have stuff to do and absolutely no time to be sick. With the little time I have, I surf WebMD, then talk about what I found with my husband before going to sleep at night. I pepper people who get sick more than three times a decade with questions like, “How can you stand this? You put up with this all the time?” with a tone that insinuates that I would have ended it all by now if I were them. I say things to my husband like, “I guess now that I’m a mom it would be inappropriate to ask you to put me down like Old Yeller.” I become maudlin, and try to remember if I stipulated anything about DNR in my will, which we made in happier, healthier times. I wonder what “stiff upper lip” even means anyway. And why is it considered so great to have one?
The sad thing is that I’ve actually gotten a lot better. You should have seen me before I had the kid. And now that my cold has metatisized into something with two golf balls in my throat that make it hard for me speak, I for the first time since Fall Semester 1996 when I was the fourth person to check herself in at Health Services with a super flu that would eventually go on to take out over 50% of the college (true story!), am about to call my doctor for an immediate sickness.
Still, it’s striking how differently we all handle sickness in my family. And this has me wondering how you all handle getting sick. Sound off in the comments!
featured image credit: Articulate Matter
I would say I am a mix between your MIL and CH. When I have nowhere to be and nobody counting on me I sleep in front of my TV comforted by hot tea, soup(oh yes) and sometimes the store bought meds to get through it all. If I have places to be and things to do then I dose myself on meds and head out the door with hankies in pocket. I try not to bitch and moan about it too much.
A word on over the counter med: I rarely use them. I would rather just get through the whole mess allowing my immune system to strengthen itself by fighting the good fight. it is only in the extreme cases of cold/flu that I take something. I am a big proponent of stopping the cold right as it comes on, for that I use Wellness, liquid drops you can find at Whole Foods.
I would so agree … if I had time to nurse my immune system. M/b next time…
DUDE. I am the same way. I think because we are just busy bodies, we cannot be slowed down, which is exactly what a cold forces you to do. Hate it. BOO!
Oh, and get well soon! ; )
I co-sign your BOO! Stoopid colds…
You poor thing! I hope you feel better soon. And I would like to thank you again for not coming over on Saturday.
I like to think I’m of the stiff upper lip category. I tend to push forward and work through the cold (or whatever it is), which of course almost always makes it worse and leaves me with no choice but to eventually retire to bed for a couple of days and let my body conduct it’s war on the invading illness.
That’s exactly what happens to CH. I can’t tell you how many weekends he’s had to sit out after pushing himself to hard. Seriously, don’t be a hero.