Sickness = perspective
On Monday afternoon, there were certain things that were important. Making it home in time for the stromboli C. got from the greek/italian takeout place. Making up my May budget so I could squeeze in both a pair of sandals AND a dress for work/church. Figuring out how to use bronzer so that my husband doesn't say "You've got a brown stripe on your face..." Diplomatically juggling my mother, stepmother, and second mom so that all three know they are important, and that my mother has no inkling that the other two exist for me (she's wierd that way).
By Tuesday afternoon, different things were important: Not Throwing Up Anymore; Making it To The Doctor's Office Without Gastrointestinal Incident; Staying Still While Injected with IV so that I Can Get Remotely Hydrated (having the physician's assistant incredulously ask, "You drove yourself here?" is not a good sign); Making it From the Doctor's Office and To /From the Pharmacy, and Home Without Aforementioned Incident; Staying Conscious Long Enough To Take Nausea Medication As Necessary; Convincing mother that No, She Does Not Have To Come Over, that My Husband Is Caring For Me Okay And No, I Probably Should Not Go For A Walk Around The Block.
Luckily, I'm better now, and while I'm glad it's over, I hope my body remembers this wonderful aversion to food I've had for the last 72 hours. As miserable as it is, someone should bottle stomach virus and sell it. Sick days + fast weight loss = profit.
See? Another joke. C. Yesterday morning I came up with this winner:
Me: I'm hot 'cause I'm dehydrated. You ain't 'cause you're not. This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot.
C: Someone's ready to go back to work.
And thus it came to pass; For lo, I am typing this from my over-full desk at work (the paper don't organize itself, y'know!). Before you know it, I'll be back to eating spinach dip at 11 p.m., not drinking nearly enough water, spending too much on shoes, and honing my diplomatic skills with my mother.
Because sick or not, the perspective on that relationship doesn't change.
By Tuesday afternoon, different things were important: Not Throwing Up Anymore; Making it To The Doctor's Office Without Gastrointestinal Incident; Staying Still While Injected with IV so that I Can Get Remotely Hydrated (having the physician's assistant incredulously ask, "You drove yourself here?" is not a good sign); Making it From the Doctor's Office and To /From the Pharmacy, and Home Without Aforementioned Incident; Staying Conscious Long Enough To Take Nausea Medication As Necessary; Convincing mother that No, She Does Not Have To Come Over, that My Husband Is Caring For Me Okay And No, I Probably Should Not Go For A Walk Around The Block.
Luckily, I'm better now, and while I'm glad it's over, I hope my body remembers this wonderful aversion to food I've had for the last 72 hours. As miserable as it is, someone should bottle stomach virus and sell it. Sick days + fast weight loss = profit.
See? Another joke. C. Yesterday morning I came up with this winner:
Me: I'm hot 'cause I'm dehydrated. You ain't 'cause you're not. This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot.
C: Someone's ready to go back to work.
And thus it came to pass; For lo, I am typing this from my over-full desk at work (the paper don't organize itself, y'know!). Before you know it, I'll be back to eating spinach dip at 11 p.m., not drinking nearly enough water, spending too much on shoes, and honing my diplomatic skills with my mother.
Because sick or not, the perspective on that relationship doesn't change.
posted by Gina at 7:59 AM
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