Sick days aren't what they used to be people.
It's never any fun to be sick, the aches, the pains, the chills. I will have none of it.
However, there was always a guaranteed fact that I got the works from the grocery store: 7up, jello, homemade soup, every sick person's essentials. Not to mention the fact that if I was lucky enough for mom or dad to stay home with me, I basically had my own butler for the day, waiting on me hand and foot. Another perk, no school. I may feel like crap, but nothing beats a day on the couch with my favorite tv shows. Even more importantly, medicine just showed up on the coffee table. Somehow my mom was keeping track, down to the minute, of just how much and how often I needed my medicine.
This all changed when I woke up last week with a sore throat and achey legs. When you're not home with your mom and the works, sick days have little to no perks.
I've spent the past few days drinking water and eating cereal. Not exactly sick pop and soup.
Guaranteed, skipping class is a lot easier now than having to get consent from parents, and make up work from teachers. That is until I looked at the syllabus and realized I missed a quiz, and an in-class writing assignment. In this case, it's not so easy to catch up.
Taking medicine also comes with instructions now. Not the daily four hour dosage that just magically appeared on the night stand next to me. And what's with the fine print on the bottles? It's like they are trying to poison me so that they make more money when I need more medicine because I didn't get better the first time. And, medicine is expensive! I just have a chest cold. I'm not recovering from open heart surgery?
It's also really hard to rest up, when I have to get up to go get my laundry, because being sick is the only time I have to do it, or having to get up and get myself water, or even when I think I'm hungry, but I look at the fridge and realize there's no sick food in there, because to acquire sick food is to go to the store which I don't have the money, energy, or time for such amenities.
Of course, I wasn't in dire need of a bed side nurse, but when I'm sick, I want to be the sick person, not the caregiver to my sick self.
All I'm saying is, chicken soup from a can doesn't taste near as good when it's not handed to me on my couch made by my mom.
To express, explain, and exclaim the lessons life continually throws at me, and my take on how to deal.