Yesterday an intestinal bug hit me—the same vicious critter that downed my mother the day before no doubt jumped ship and decided to cruise through my innards. This mean little virus snuck up suddenly and without any forewarning. No sense of queasiness, no hint of a fever starting, no little aches and pains. One moment I energetically tackled the chores remaining on my “TO DO” list, and the next I succumbed to this humbling sickness. When David and Paul showed up, it was to find me curled on the couch under a blanket with the warning, “Stay away! I’m sick.”
Today, I suffer from muscle aches and head spinning nausea. Mom complained of similar symptoms and retreated to the warmth of her bed after David gave her a bath (my lesson definitely learned). I’ve filled my new teapot with water, dumped dinner into a slow cooker, and retreated to my room wrapped in a fleece robe and extra blanket. When the whistle calls, I’ll brew a hot cuppa tea in the hopes that its soothing heat will ease my discomfort.
Illness doesn’t hit our household very often. I know that sounds strange since Mom fights Huntington’s disease daily. However, the only other sickness that plagues my mother centers on the reactions her sinuses have to changes in barometric pressure. Send a front our way, and she’ll feel it a day or two in advance. Benadryl either knocks out the sinus flair-up, or it wipes her out so she sleeps until the front passes through town. So, dealing with other ailments isn’t a common occurrence around here.
Fortune follows us in that the few times I’ve fallen infirm, it’s been a weekend! David steps in and waits upon the entire household. I haven’t suffered for more than a day or two at a time and have returned to my normal routine by Monday. On the few times I’ve felt ill during the week, I’ve relied upon our son, Paul, to rescue me. However, I cannot call him today because he, too, fell sick to a cold virus a few days ago. No way do we want to mix these two creatures! No one would survive a full body assault.
So as I sit hunched over the keyboard, I realize I need to find some kind of “back-up” caregiver for days like today. I probably should have lined up a care service months ago, but I’m the Forever Optimist and gambled that the plague would miss our house. Silly me!
Copyright 2012 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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