I’m a Bad Sick Person

No one likes being sick.

I hate feeling weak, lethargic, sore, snuffly, or anything else that makes me feel less than great. C’mon, who wouldn’t rather feel great!?

Of course, I am sure we all have known a few people who love the attention and sympathy they get from being sick. “Aw, poor me!” (Maybe I’m even one of those people? Gawd I hope not, but then, here I am, blogging about it… hmm… )

Today I am sick.

I felt it coming on in my throat on Saturday night, went directly into denial, and managed to plug through a very big day of work all day Sunday. But then when I stopped, this cold, which had Mat laid up in bed for 4 days, smacked me upside the head like a ton of bricks.


It’s ‘just a cold’ but this cold comes with fever, body ache, congestion, headache, and a cloudy mind. And I hate it.

I also hate that cold and flu medicine, my usual go-to when I get a cold, has not cut through the symptoms. Usually, within a dose or two, I can act and feel normal. Not so with this cold! I went into work and organised to have the day off, and came home to go to bed and rest this thing off.

I even cancelled Balance class, and I feel quite guilty, really. Kobie was able to teach Attack, Pump and play netball while fighting her cold, but I woosed out. I just feel too weak to try.

So here I am, hopped up on antihistamines, too sick to work, too tired to function, too awake to sleep properly.

So it got me thinking, if I had a serious illness, what a terrible patient I would be!

I mean, if a cold leaves me feeling dreary after less than 24 hours, how depressed would I be if I had an illness that had long-term effects? If I had cancer and had to go through chemo, or battle chronic fatigue or fybro-myalgia… diseases that sap your energy and have no clear end in sight…

Well, I’m sure I’d be a record-breaking bad patient! I’d be a whining complaining grumbling pouting depressed jerk!

I must say that I have huge respect for people who live with diseases and illnesses that remove ‘great’ from their day, and yet find strength when the disease aims to deny it, find joy when they could be chosing depression or self-pity, who laugh when weaker people would cry.

God willing, I’ll never have to face that challenge, to find out what I’m really made of.

In the meantime, I’m going to try to get some rest and kick butt on this cold!


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