I’m sick. We all get that cold/flu/sinus infection and we seriously just want to crawl under a rock and die. Funny how a tiny microscopic organism can bring us down so easily.
I feel as if the plague has come upon me. I can see the rats scurrying about. The holy men calling “bring out your dead”! Corpses around me becoming animated. They consume the flesh of the living. Darkness! Darkness everywhere!! Yikes, I really need to stop watching marathons of zombie apocalypse movies.
I see the cold medicine commercials on tv. Where folks look a bit sad, but certainly not sick. They do not portray real life sick days. I lay here on the couch, not in full makeup or hair styled. I lay here looking like I haven’t showered in three days. I smell like Vic’s vapor rub and the chicken soup I had for dinner yesterday. I have bits of tissue stuck to my red raw nose and I’m pretty sure I have honey from my tea in my hair. I’m a disaster.
Then we all understand the work battle that we fight in our heads when we are sick. Nobody wants to make the dreaded call in. We ponder over the ‘should I go to work or call in sick’ dilemma, especially if it is for more than one day. Do we contaminate our colleagues or spare them from the wrath of the ‘snot gods’. We shall be judged either way, so better to stay home and cough up vital organs than to share this delight with others.
Then there are the mountains of medications. Exactly what does one take? There does not seem to be a package for ‘I feel sick and horrible all over’. So I take ‘cold pills’ instead. Now, I get to be in ‘la la’ land whilst coughing my body wrong side out. So much drama in the sick days all worthy of Academy Awards. All we really want is mom.
Oh how we wish a sick day was for relaxation, catching up on chores, naps, and Netflix; but instead we spend our time curled on the tile of the bathroom floor staring into nothing and thinking to ourselves “can one actually hack up a lung?”