After working 55-60 hours a week for a month, getting 3-5 hours of sleep(if I was lucky, all at one time!), stress eating like it was going out of style, and driving all over creation in yucky weather....on my "vacation", I managed to get what feels like the flu.
It is day 3 of having it, day 1 of feeling somewhat human again. Day 2 was the worst, as I spent most of it in my bed, taking 20 minutes to painfully roll over in bed. My entire body hurt. Even my eyeballs ached. Did you know eyeballs could ache? I didn't.
My sheets were soaked in sweat, my pillows covered in cough and sneeze fluids. Snotty, used up toilet paper wads were my bed mates. I told the kids to stay out of my room. I only emerged when I thought I was hungry, heated up some food, ate a quarter of it, and realized I wasn't as hungry as I thought. I kept a gallon of water on the floor next to my bed.
This is the first time I've been sick since my bout with the 'Rona. And trust me, getting the 'Rona was a doozy to my immune system, so I am NOT complaining. But I have to say, in the past 8 years, this is the easiest time I've had with a sickness.
This is the first time in 8 years I'm sick...and single.
And do you know what? It WAS like a vacation compared to being sick married.
Things I don't miss about being sick and married:
-Having someone who didn't give a shit that I was sick enough to sleep in a different room so they wouldn't catch what I have(Or insisting I sleep with them in the same bed because "they wont be able to sleep without me", not because its more comfortable for me, the sick person)
-Having to explain to someone that my entire body hurts so please, for the love of God, please do not try to touch me/cuddle me
-Having to constantly get up and help the kids with something because my partner, although he lives here too, is basically ignoring them and hyper-focused on the Xbox
-Having to constantly be woken up because a certain someone can't use the kids bathroom so he continually barges into our room just when I start entering a deep sleep
-Having to explain how being contagious works to a grown man...again. Please stop touching me.
-Assuming that, because my sense of smell has decreased, my ability to hear has somehow also decreased. No, I can still hear you snoring as you sleep/stomping around when you're awake and both are loud as fuck. And yes, I can still smell your disgusting cigarette smoke.
-Having to stop everything and ultimately leave the room when he had to get ready for work because, although I went without sleep because of previous reasons mentioned, he still couldn't be bothered to do anything to ensure I was getting the quiet I needed to rest.
-Asking him as politely as possible to please stop shouting at the Xbox games. Then repeating this several more times until I came out yielding a kitchen knife and threatening to shank him if he DIDN'T JUST LET ME REST FOR ONE FUCKING HOUR
-Praying for the sickness to leave my body not because I hate being sick but because I thought maybe it was Satan trying to tear apart my marriage by showing me the worst version of myself(and not, I dunno...God showing me I was married to a selfish asshole??)
-Having to apologize after a day or two of next to no sleep to my husband for not being the sweet, obedient wife I usually(?) am, instead of waiting for him to apologize for being a dick(because that's not what a good, Christian wife does. She takes him as he is!)
-Having to make myself soup or literally anything food-wise because although I was sick as a dog and he was perfectly healthy, it still didn't dawn on him the kids or I need to eat today
-Expecting my supposed significant other to occasionally check up on me, not just in passing on the way to the toilet or to wake me up and ask me where something of his is.
Only a small handful of times did he actually show something other than frustration with me being sick, and I usually blasted that shit on social media because I thought Oh, for once he's spoiling me!
This time was so different. It was...just me. Well, me and the kids. The kids(teens) who work jobs and do sports and will do anything to avoid getting sick to miss out on said activities. The kids who are rarely home because of said activities. So, it was largely just me.
It was so nice to not have to explain or justify taking up the entire bed. Of not having to move the toilet paper wads over, not move the blankets or pillows to share, to not have to get up unless I WANTED to get up. It is nice to know in my very weakened state I could still put myself first for a bit and not feel guilty about it. It's nice to know I don't have to apologize to anyone for being human, for needing rest, for wanting to be left alone. It's nice to know I'm not suddenly invalid because I'm down for the count.
I don't have to prioritize a shifting man's mood over my own wellness as I recover.
I got to...just be sick.
That's a mind blowing concept for me.
I am single...and sick. And even though my body is still regaining its strength, even though I can barely breathe through one nostril, even though I am certain I will cough up a vital organ any minute now....
I couldn't be more grateful.
Now, excuse me while I take my shot glass of cold meds and hopefully gain the strength to wash my bedsheets.
(Ah, who am I kidding. I'm still sick and feeling weak. I keep my sicky sheets until I'm all better. Who do I think I am, Superwoman?)
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