Mama is sick. Coughing, chills, 102.6 fever, shaking, body aching, vertigo sick. I’ve been in bed for most of the last two days, except when I had to go get my boy from school, and even that was iffy; I drove so slow I think people must have presumed I was an 80 plus year old woman behind the wheel. I probably should see a doctor, but I’m too stubborn. I grew up with a mother who is a nurse, and her rule of thumb was three days. As in most non-serious conditions will resolve themselves in three days, and if you’re not showing signs of improvement in three days, you should go to the doctor.
My darling hubby brought the kid to school yesterday so I could stay in bed, mostly because I was so dizzy I could barely stand, but I still had to get up and get the boy at 1:30. Came home, did a few other things that needed to get done – yes, because a mother’s obligations never stop, even when she is sick – and then collapsed on the floor with The Boy while he demonstrated for me how to put his newest Lego set together. I was so zapped all I could do was smile. Oh, and I called Hubby to tell him to come home ASAP, as I was likely going to pass out soon and it might be good if The Boy’s other parent was around to reassure him when that happened.
Hubby arrived home around 6pm, and shortly thereafter I was tucked into bed with a dose of NyQuil under my belt, the humidifier running, and a couple of boxes of tissue close at hand. Plus my insanely possessive cat, Bella, curled around my knees for added help in sweating out the fever. Thanks, baby girl.
I slept through the next roughly twelve hours, checking my temperature each time I woke up, and by morning I was feeling pretty good – I had gotten it down to 101.2! I was feeling like I could beat this with a few extra hours in bed. Ah, the hubris of mothers. The world, she laughs at us, and our silly notions that we can handle it all.
I asked Hubby to take The Boy to school again, but he had an early meeting that could not be missed or put off. I understand; I used to practice law and know how it gets around this time of year. So I dragged my sorry ass out of bed, then clothed, fed, and dragged an extraordinarily unhappy child to school.
I’m bored out of my skull from sitting in bed, and I need to do something other than watch back episodes of The Good Wife, Hawaii Five-O, or NCIS online. I’ve tried reading, but it’s hard to concentrate with my nose and my cough interrupting me every fifteen seconds; I tend to lose my train of thought and place a bit too easily. I don’t want to talk on the phone because it makes me cough. Although that reminds, me, I need to call my mother, because she has this beastly illness, too, so I need to check on her.
Needless to say, I’ve made no progress on my book piles or organizing anything. Moving makes me cough. Maybe I will just watch some television online.
So here I am, at least until I have to get up to get The Boy from school at 1:30. At which time I’ll crawl back into bed and beg my child to get me some water and a cool wet cloth. At least I have my psycho kitty for company, and she doesn’t expect conversation out of me.