Last Saturday morning I woke up feeling horrible. I’d been fighting something off for days, but this was worse: just keeping my eyes open felt like work.
ME: (to my husband): I’m really sick. REALLY sick.
You have to speak up in our house for people (especially me) to even notice that you’re ailing. Even so, I got zero reaction. Moms don’t get sick. We’re not allowed.
My husband did raise an eyebrow when I took myself to the urgent care clinic.
ME: (to the doctor) I’m really sick.
The slightly-more-sympathetic doctor told me I had bronchitis and gave me a five-day
“Z-pack” of antibiotics.
Upon my return home:
ME: (somewhat triumphantly) I have bronchitis. I’m sick.
DAVID: (even more triumphantly) You have a Z-pack. You’ll be fine by tomorrow.
24 hours later. The Superbowl was on. David was lying on the couch. I was in tears.
ME: I am SICK.
DAVID: The Z-pack should have kicked in by now.
ME: Well, it HASN’T.
This apparently did not compute, since he was still lying down and I was still standing up, with three kids up too late running and yelling behind me.
ME: Look at me. I’m not kidding. This is me top three sick ever since you’ve known me.
DAVID: What was worse?
ME: Childbirth? No, wait. THIS IS WORSE.
And so he begrudgingly left his spot on our couch watching the most incredible football game of his lifetime (until next year) to put the kids to bed because I had already gone to bed at 7:45 pm without even watching the Beyoncé halftime show because I was THAT SICK.
Monday morning. Time to get the kids to school. Me under the covers with two sweaters on.
DAVID: You should feel better by now.
ME: Yes. You’ve mentioned that.
After taking the kids to school, and walking the puffball of need that seemed like such a cute idea a few weeks ago, I hauled myself back to the urgent care.
NEW DOCTOR: You’ve taken three days of antibiotics?
NEW DOCTOR: And you don’t feel better?
ME: I feel much, much worse.
NEW DOCTOR: I don’t understand. You should feel better by now.
I just do that.
NEW DOCTOR: Maybe we should give you a flu test.
Five minutes later:
NEW DOCTOR: Wow! I’ve actually never seen a flu test result THAT positive. That’s… that’s amazing. (opens door to hallway) Hey, come look at this!
It was no small satisfaction that I texted same to my husband at work. I could feel his perception of me rapidly shifting right through my smartphone. I took to my bed and stayed there for three days.
Get the flu shot if you haven’t yet, I had no good reason for having skipped it myself. I’m on Day 5 of Tamiflu and still can’t take a deep breath. Not sure the three days of watching movies in my pajamas was worth what it took to get there.
Does your family have a hard time accepting it when you’re sick?