Clouds & Minestrone.
Monday, January 16, 2006
It sucks to be unwell.
When one is so sick that one presents such universally-accepted symptoms as Fever, or Vomit, or Hideous Rash, then one may lay down in bed and moan and swear that death is knocking on the door, and everyone else nods and says, "Shhh, she's sick. She needs to stay in bed. Let's make her some lovely chicken soup and fluff her pillow."
There's this illness threshold one crosses where it becomes acceptable to lay down and do absolutely nothing. It's out of your hands; you're Sick In Bed. Sure, it's not pleasant, but the lack of responsibility is comforting.
What sucks is when you're just sick enough to step right up to the responsibility threshold, but not past it. When you're siffling constantly, and you're filling up wastebaskets full of Puff's Plus, and your head hurts, and your throat feels icky, but you're not feverish or throwing up and, besides the gross sniffling, there's nothing outwardly wrong with you. Then people roll their eyes when you complain how terrible you feel and think to themselves, "Oh just get over it you complainer." Everyone expects you to accomplish your daily tasks, and god forbid you have a sneezing fit and snot flies out of your nose. Trust me, there is NO SYMPATHY.
posted by hilary at 9:40 AM |
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