sick

Ug. That is the only description fit for how I feel at the moment. The only one I have energy for, anyway.

I hate being sick. I do not do sick well. I don't do other people being sick well. (Especially when they are the "man sick" type, which J is.) I think this has to do with how my mother brought us up. We just didn't. get. sick. Period.

What? Runny nose and headache? Drink some orange juice. Throwing up? Get fluids and plenty of rest. Better yet - suck it up. If you ignore it, it will go away. Like it never even existed. I think we were generally suspicious of doctors and medicine. The only medicine I ever remember taking was those little red Sudafed pills... and those I popped by the handful, though never because I was sick.

So, now as an adult, I get sick and I go to work, I make dinner, I go shopping. And if I DO stay home, it pretty much has to be because I don't want to get anyone else sick, not because I should TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. Ah, fanning the flames of martyrdom.

I like to be left alone when I'm sick. Don't touch me, don't coddle me, don't make me chicken noodle soup. And I'm horrible with people who get sick and suddenly can't function, insist on going to the doctor, stay in bed, get medicine right away, let other people baby them. I mean, c'mon, get over it already.

But, today, I did go buy some medicine (after going to work and to the mall to buy A some new pants). Progress? Maybe. I think the fact that I actually picked something out and paid for it (and TOOK it) given that there are more cold/flu type medicines than there are colors, speaks for something.

If I ever become one of those people who gets "man sick," though, please shoot me and put everyone out of their misery.

Ug.