Sunday, September 30, 2012

Sick Daze

For the past few days, I’ve been sick.  I don’t mean like sniffle, sniffle, cough, cough.  I mean (said in my most dramatic fashion) I was on my deathbed unsure if recovery was humanly possible.  At least, that’s what I told my mom when she called to check on me.  Thankfully, the death plague has passed.  They’ve lifted the quarantine off of my house.  I can rejoin the human race again.

A few things you should know:
I don’t get sick often.  Sniffle, sniffle, cough, cough – yeah, sure.  That happens to all of us.  But really, really sick.  Nah, not me.   Maybe it’s the flu shot that I get every year religiously.  Maybe it’s my super-human immune system.  Whatever.  The last time that I got really, really sick was like ten years ago.  It wasn’t fun then and it wasn’t fun now. 

I rarely call out of work sick.  This week, I had to do it twice.  At the end of the government’s fiscal year.  I failed my team.  I failed my agency.  I failed you, the American people.  To top it all off, I probably infected a bunch of colleagues.  Talk about guilt.  On the bright side…aww heck, there isn’t a bright side. 
I’m not stocked with the proper supplies to survive getting sick.  Well, I’m actually not stocked with the proper supplies to survive much of anything.  But I can usually run to the store to get those supplies.  Not this week.  (Although I did go out to get ginger ale.  In my pajamas with a huge hole in the back of my pants.  I didn’t much care.) 

I live by myself.  Living by oneself when one is sick sucks.  When my brother (who also lives by himself) gets sick, my mom is at his house in seven minutes with chicken noodle soup and ginger ale to make sure he’s okay.  Because she lives seven minutes away from him.  My mom lives two and a half hours and $35 in tolls away from me.  She doesn’t bring me chicken noodle soup.  Probably because of the tolls. 
I’m not the best when it comes to asking for help.  I always thought that meant I was strong and independent.  Really, it just means I have a huge flaw in my character.

Operation Influenza Drop
This week I needed a little help from my friends. 
And by the power of social media – and my mom – help was generously offered and gratefully accepted.  One of my friends brought me medicine and tea bags and soup and even a pile of DVDs.  Other friends offered to bring me anything that I needed.  That meant a lot to me.  Especially when I got all maudlin and weepy when I was sure that I was going to shrivel up and die and the only people that would notice would be my little cat family.  Did I mention that I tend to be a little dramatic? 

I’m incredibly thankful.
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And now, a few observations that I made during my sick daze – 
Having no ABC soap operas to get me through from noon-thirty to four o’clock was just sad.  The death of the soap opera is the death of an art form!  They canceled “All My Children” for “The Chew”??? 

Ginger ale is disgusting.  There’s a reason I usually only drink brown sodas.  (And now for a brief tangent – this is why I believe restaurants have a moral responsibility to inform patrons that the Coke machine isn’t working before they pay for their drink – clear sodas stink.  Do you hear that Boston Market?!) 
The ladies on “The View” are annoying.  So are the ladies on “The Talk” although they are more diverse -  two black ladies, a lesbian, a Brit, and a media mogul’s wife versus two black ladies, a Republican, an octogenarian, and Joy Behar. 

Saltines are good crumbled up in soup.
Anderson Cooper is good people.  (Full disclosure, I met Anderson Cooper at a book signing once – he seemed like a genuine guy!)

Cats don’t care that their human might be sick.  They just want food.  And they’ll walk all over you to get it.
Katie Couric’s stage looks like a giant kidney bean.

I get a lot of calls from 1-800 numbers during the day.  I thought I was on a Do Not Call list somewhere! 
Being sick is no fun.

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Finally feeling much better!  Although – in my never-ending quest to understand the definition of irony – is it ironic that I’m going for my flu shot next week?  Or just rotten luck?