I may not have actually been hit by a bus, but for a week and a half, I sure felt like I had been. First a gnarly flu bug bit hard, leaving me with dry heaves and butt barfs. Good times. I spent 5 days doing nothing more than taking my kids to school and picking them up. Oh and regularly declaring myself on death’s door.
I’ll be perfectly honest with you guys. I do not do sick bravely. I’m so bad that once, while I was laughing about a cartoon depicting the differences between how a man and woman get sick…
You know the one: she’s doing a million things at once, he’s all on the couch, moaning and groaning.
…my husband actually asked, “so where do you hide your dick?”
Yeah. I’m a wussy little bitch when Mr. Virus comes a’callin’. My husband is not. He actually has to be completely incapacitated before he’ll even think about calling in sick. He wanted to go back to work after his second vasectomy. (Yes, second. It’s a long story he’ll be thrilled to tell you. Just ask.) So, the bout with the flu was the opposite of fun. For everyone. But I was on the mend, getting better. Finally.
THEN, my 8 year-old came home with a cold. Not more than two hours later, I was sneezing and coughing. And once again, I was on knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door.
I can hear you screaming, “It’s just a COLD, loser! Get the fuck over your damn self!”
BUT! It was a cold on the heels of a hard flu. I was weakened. I was still having trouble eating and you guys, I couldn’t sleep for the hacking. I pee when I cough. (Thank you, my ingrate children. I’ll pay for your therapy after you pay for my bladder reconstruction.) I was just a mess. I still had to function at some level, because kids have to get to school and I had committed to bringing dinner for 30 to one night of the teenager’s tech nights.
She was under strict instructions to remain silence, should a sudden outbreak of flu break out among cast and crew. Her drama teacher is fucking scary as hell.
There were field trips involved. Stuff had to get done. So I whined and lolled and dropped the ball on dinner many nights in a row. We had pizza 3 nights out of 5.
Last night, after a short nap, I found myself feeling better. Well enough to let my husband have some nookie, which he’s been not-so-sublety hinting for.
Seriously, man? The dark covers a LOT for you, doesn’t it? And you’ve proven yourself more than able to ignore my growing winter pelt. Good on you, mate.
And today? I’m back.