Blog Archives

There Are No Sick Days

As a parent, especially a single parent, there are no sick days.  Even if you have the luxury to take a day off of work (and this time, I did not), you don’t get a day off from parenting…ever

But, as I have finally admitted to myself, you can be “good enough” for a few days…

I’m a perfectionist by nature…when I have a way that I do things, and I know it works, and it’s the “right” way (for me), that’s how I like to do it…I don’t like to deviate…I’m OCD like that…however, motherhood (especially single motherhood) turned me into a realist very quickly.

I had (and still have) the stomach bug from hell – thanks to my darling children…it started Wednesday night, and I really thought it was what I ate for dinner…I don’t remember the last time I was that miserable…not even labor and childbirth felt that bad…I went to bed early, figuring I would sleep it off…Thursday morning, I woke up (sort of), drenched in sweat (oh yeah, the AC was out again) and feeling like I was going to die…I nearly passed out in the shower – and I’ve never passed out in my life (well, not while sober…)…I have a vague memory of throwing soap at myself and waving the razor under my arms…but if you think I did more than brush my hair and put on clothes that vaguely matched, you’re wrong…

The boys were sympathetic…I told Sean I didn’t feel good, so I couldn’t pick him up…he gave me his sweet stare and offered up his hand so I could walk him everywhere – to the bathroom to brush his teeth, down the stairs after I got him ready, to the car when we left, and into the daycare (which never happens)…I never realized just how much I carry him throughout the day…Aidan was relatively well-behaved…

I always make Sean’s lunch – it’s cheaper…not Thursday and Friday…I didn’t have the energy, but I had cash…you make do, right?  I tried to cook dinner Thursday night – well, as much as throwing a frozen pizza into the oven can be considered cooking – and still don’t know how I did it…Friday night, I gave up the dream and bought Happy Meals…in this whole time, I’ve barely eaten, which wasn’t helping the situation…but if you’ve ever had the stomach bug from hell, you know the last thing you want to do is eat…and if I thought of something, and it didn’t sound appetizing, I wasn’t going to force it…

I had a fever (or just a hot house from the AC being down, not sure)…I had chills (that was Thursday afternoon)…then I was clammy (that was most of Friday)…today, I’m just low energy but I’m gradually getting better…right now it’s just a constant nausea that is only alleviated by sweet tea (no lie!) and a cold room…every once in a while, I can eat something solid, but only if I think about it real hard first and the thought of it doesn’t make me nauseous…I pick Sean up occasionally – to put him on the changing table or in the bathtub – and it leaves me breathless for a moment…

We tried the errand thing this morning…and I used Sean’s nap as the reason we had to stop for the day…I’ll try again tomorrow…my house is a wreck, and I don’t really care – except the landlord’s been over twice this week because of the AC, and I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of slob…tomorrow, I’ll be happy if I get the laundry done, which isn’t really optional since I won’t have work clothes if I don’t…

I had a few moments where I felt sorry for myself because I really was miserable…but I pushed through – at work and at home…in my mind, there’s no other option…the job at work or home doesn’t stop for illness…someone has to do it, and that someone is me…it doesn’t really bother me to push through…you would have to have known my dad to know where I get it from…he lived every day of my life (22 years when he died) in constant pain, and he pushed through every day…I think about that sometimes, when I feel sorry for myself…if he can do it for that amount of time, surely, I can handle a few hours or days of it…

I refuse to stress the small stuff…I’m doing only what is necessary to get through the day…and frankly, most of that is making sure that the boys’ basic needs are met…if mine are met in the meantime, great, but it’s not a requirement…once I’m whole and healthy again, I’ll go back to my normal Type A, OCD self…I promise.

Oh, and while I don’t recommend it as a weight loss program, it’s been a great way to lose about 5 pounds or so… 🙂

I Wouldn’t Mind Being Pampered…Maybe

I’ve been sick all week…and since it’s the second time in a few weeks, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself…wishing someone would pamper me, baby me, take care of me…except, I don’t allow that kind of thing…not since I was a kid and didn’t have a choice…

And that got me to thinking…why do I want to be pampered?  What does it mean to be pampered – what would I expect someone to do for me?  And why I haven’t I been pampered in the past?

I think I know the answer to the first one…like most of us (I hope!), the few times I was sick as a kid, my parents took great care of me…sometimes a little overzealously – the only time I ever had the flu, all my dad fed me for a solid week was Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and Saltines…and to this day, I detest chicken noodle soup…but I think there’s something comforting about having a parent take care of you when you’re in need…I hope Aidan and Sean feel that way about me one day…

I’m not sure what it means to be taken care of- I think it’s different for everyone…today, I would have said it was someone carrying Sean for me (he’s sick, too, so he’s definitely being babied)…or cooking dinner for me…but I don’t really know which answers the last question…

Why haven’t I ever been pampered, coddled, or babied?  Easy, because I don’t allow it…hell, I don’t even take good, well-meaning advice when I’m sick…you think I’m actually going to sit still and let someone else do everything for me?  I have no need to analyze this one to death…it’s just how I am…it’s probably a trust thing (and I have plenty of trust issues)…

This isn’t a woe-is-me, poor Michaela kind of thing…this is a genuine curiosity at why I have a desire for it when I’m sick and what it really means.  If I know what pampering is, I’ll recognize it when someone’s doing it…and then tell them to stop that shit and let me take care of myself…

The Miracle of Mashed Potatoes

Two shots in the butt and a giant bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy later, and I feel so much better, it’s amazing. 

I barely slept last night…woke up, needed to swallow, physically braced myself for the pain, swallowed, rolled over…repeat every 15 minutes…ALL night. This is all while my ears are literally on fire and the only relief is the pressure of laying on that ear…but since both ears hurt, only one side at a time got any relief…every 15 minutes…ALL night.

I woke up this morning, starving, but knowing I would need something I could suck through a straw…and the idea of swallowing even a smoothie made me cringe – because I’m damned tired of them and because it would still hurt…and so mentally worn down from being sick all week that I was near tears on my drive to work (and I really hate that)…I was tired of hurting, tired of being hungry all the time, tired of forcing myself to be at least at the 90% mark from morning to night, TIRED of freaking smoothies and milkshakes…yeah, it was a total pity party…

I had hit my breaking point…and I finally went to the doctor.  Ok, so you’re wondering why the hell I didn’t go earlier?  Well, Tuesday, when I called in sick, I literally slept ALL day…by the time I woke up, I had to pick up the boys…and I had to convince myself to get out of the bed to do that! And yes, my co-workers and boss would have understood if I had taken a day to go to the doctor…but the mound of work is already so high everyday…a day or two away, and I’m drowning in it (more than usual)…

But this morning, I was over it.  This was for the birds!  So I went to work, delegated about a million things, informed everybody that I was going to immediate care, and I didn’t know or care how long it was going to take, but I would be back to finish my big-big-had-to-be-done-today-no-other-option task. Two hours and two shots later, I was back. 

When I complained about needing something to eat (I only took 5 sips of that stupid smoothie all day), someone suggested mashed potatoes and gravy…and I swear to you the Hallelujah chorus started playing from the sky…it was brilliant! And why the hell hadn’t I thought of it earlier?  So that was lunch…and apparently, my meds kicked in about the same time I ate, because I felt SO good…I still hurt, I’m still sick…but it’s SUCH an improvement…so yay for shots to the butt and mashed potatoes with gravy.

On a side note, this has been a great way to lose weight…but I don’t think I should consider being sick an official weight loss plan.

 

%d bloggers like this: