Since we’re friends now, I feel like I can be honest: I’m pathetic when I’m sick.
Now, it’s my understanding, based on dozens of conversations with married friends, that this role is typically reserved for the guys. Well, I’ve never been one to kowtow to gender stereotypes.
It’s not like I ring a little bell to summon family members to my bedside (because I don’t own a little bell). Instead, I lay on the couch and fuss about how stuffed up I am or how sick to my stomach I feel or how painful my toenail fungus is.
(You guys. I totally made up that last bit. It’s on my mind because of that stupid Superbowl commercial last night, to which I won’t bother linking, because ew.)
Anywho, I’ve been sick since October, minus about three weeks, with the almost-never-ending cough. There were intermittent outbursts from my family: STOP COUGHING. My own outbursts were more frequent: OHMYGOSH I’M SO SICK OF COUGHING. Finally, after antibiotics, inhalers, steroids, and a magical, codeine-laced elixir, the cough went away.
Aaaaaaaand now the cough is back. This time, it brought its cousin from the country: sinus congestion. I’ve taken decongestants and expectorants and am nevertheless still mouth-breathing. Since Saturday, I’ve had about four hours of sleep. I’ve been working from home this afternoon, which is a good thing, because I caught myself whimpering. Whimpering. Also, I’m taking an antibiotic that’s making my tummy fwoopy, so I can’t even ask Jack to bring me an orange julius or something “for medicinal purposes.” (Plus my throat doesn’t hurt, so the whole “medicinal” schtick would be a big, fat lie.)
Emily’s away at school, Bekah’s at a late rehearsal, and Jack’s stuck in a meeting, so no one’s here to feel sorry for me. Well, except for the dogs, who are clearly sympathetic, as demonstrated by their insistence on being on my person at all times. Or? They’re cold. Because of the groomer debacle.
And to all you weirdos (term of endearment, I promise) who use the Neti pot: No. Just no. I’m sure it’s miraculous, but I have zero interest in inhaling salt water unless I’m at the beach.
Oh, that’s brilliant. The beach. For medicinal purposes.