Donna has spent most of the day moaning. Sometimes from the couch. Sometimes from the bed. Sometimes just while standing around looking dazed. She's sick. What's worse is that she isn't very good at it. I kind of enjoy being sick on some level. I wouldn't pick it mind you, but at least you can sit on the couch for hours watching movies or sleep wrapped up in heavy blankets or some sort of hybrid. And all guilt free. Not that guilt really factors into my daily conduct. Which is just the opposite of Donna.
I suppose at the heart of it, it is guilt that gets in her way of eking out any joy in being sick. She feels she is supposed to be doing something else. She fights it tooth and nail. She denies any sign of sickness and suppresses them with an array of 'medications', ignoring the most important - rest. She does all this to defend a personal myth: She doesn't get sick.
Or at least not cold or flu sick. We have to ignore incapacitating headaches and crippling hangovers. Both of which have her vomiting for an entire day. But she isn't sick. Not sick sick, at least.
So today Donna didn't go to work. I've made her soup. Brought her a box of Kleenex. Rented her movies. Massaged her neck. Driven her to the acupuncturist. And cancelled dinner plans. Now I'll make her favourite hot toddy kind of drink- a blueberry tea. But ask her if she is sick and she tell you, "I don't get sick."
1 comment:
I never get sick either. But this year, I've gotten sick at least five times, so when I got sick on Thursday, I went to the doctor.
Turns out I have strep throat. Donna might want to get it checked out. The doctor said there is an epidemic of it going around Vancouver right now.
I get mad when I get sick. I was so angry that this morning turned out to be warm and sunny and beautiful because all I kept thinking about was missing out on a great ride. At least we're both sick, I guess.
Hope Donna feels better soon. And how lucky is she to have such a nice husband that makes her tea?
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