Being sick

In which I wallow in my own sympathy.

Vitamin pills

SARS, ebola, a serious case of missing legs. Growing up these were still not valid reasons to miss a day of school. Only once I lost the capacity to see, hear and write (and it had to be a compete set) could I think about staying home sick.

As an adult it’s a bit easier to self-diagnose the risk of going to work while incapacitated, perhaps because Mother G won’t have to look after me sitting feeling all sorry for myself. After a number of years of living alone I have been able to cope with not feeling great by just sitting sullenly in front of the TV. Should I allow others to take care of me, when I prefer to soldier on alone?

I don’t like feeling unwell. I have a certain dislike to the sensation that my fragile mortality is being tested by external causes. The fact that I can be brought low by a few single cell organisms makes me feel that my impending doom is ever nearer. Being a typical man who has suffered (yes SUFFERED) through the masculine strain of Orthomyxoviruses I would rather just sit and wait an illness out.

All I need is to be wrapped up in a duvet, given a constant supply of tea and a dose of daytime television. This has been the basis of the NHS for the last 50 years, it’s only once we started introducing fancy new ideas like medicine and surgery that things went to pot. The current buzzword is holistic treatment, that all aspects of people’s needs including psychological, physical and social should be taken into account and seen as a whole when they are ill.

So basically a cup of tea and a biscuit.

When I am ill I am more angry that I don’t feel great rather than any of the symptoms affecting my mood. With a cold I am upset that I can’t breathe, stomach problems I am angry I can’t eat properly, and with hay fever I am angry that I am allergic to flowers. Seriously what kind of illness is it when you get bleary eyed and sneeze at plants, a stupid one.

I don’t do being a patient well, and this feeds into my nursing as well. I can handle people being ill but I’m not the most empathetic of souls. If you are well enough to make demands for drinks, food or the television remote then you are well enough to get them yourself. If you can’t do any of these things then you should still be in bed (and possibly in another bed from me – so I don’t get ill).

Author: geekergosum

Ah, so you worked out the riddle. You just needed to use dwarfish and the doors to Geek Ergo Sum opened. Or perhaps you just used Google. Either way you are here, on my little corner of the Internet.

10 thoughts on “Being sick”

  1. Wow. We’re very similar. I hate being nursed, and I’m not a very sympathetic nurse either — it’s very “unwomanly” of me I’ve been told. I hate being sick so I get pissy about it, and I hate other people being sick so I also get pissy about it. I think it’s a control issue. I can’t fix it, so I get angry. Here’s your soup, now go to sleep and get better while you’re at it. ^_^

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am the worst patient and nurse, I get grumpy when I am ill and over compensate when someone else is poorly (I’ve driven to a pharmacy to fetch Mrs G some medicine while in the middle of a stomach virus myself). I agree that when I am ill I have no control so I’m angry I just can’t be better.


  2. Having been an RN for more years than I care to remember, I am very health conscience….of others. When I think of my own physical and mental durability and care, I admit, I fail; and fail miserably.
    I have Multiple Sclerosis: a disease that has introduced great irritation and an undesirable number of handicaps into my life. Having lived alone now for over 20 years, I have been forced to find shortcuts and inventive ways to accomplish the things I desire or simply need done in the short hours of a day. Unable to hold a job any longer, my finances are often precarious, at best. I have learned to live without many of the things that 25 years ago were total necessities. The thermostat in my home is registered for 62 in the icy winters and 82 in the sweltering summers. I do not drive any longer…. I have no vehicle. I live out of the city in a very modest home. No longer is there an internet connection (except the monthly data on my cell phone), no cable or HDTV, or landline in my home. I guess my modest means are a but beyond what many today could tolerate on a “4walls” & 24X7 situation.
    When the MS hits me hard I am stubbornly reliant totally on myself. I was a great nurse, but a very poor patient. No calls for assistance. No requests for any help of any kind. I “live” in my bed surrounded by Depends, bottles of water, tissues, and my cat. Instead of phoning anyone for anything I may go through several days of water, sodas and no food. I do try my best to do what I must do to remain as healthy as possible during those remitting days and months when I am not chained to the bed.
    I realize, I must be the most stubborn woman alive. Self reliance has new meaning when one looks at my lifestyle.
    However, in my mind I am blessed greatly. I am so thankful that I have the most respectful and generous of daughters. She drives a great distance once a week to check in on my progress. Admittedly, I have been her most frustrating of challenges. I refuse to complain about my situation. I also, obviously, refuse to ask for assistance at times that I really should. God has always had me safely enclosed in His merciful and loving hands. To Him I offer the most sincere and continuous praises.
    Yes, I’ve taken hermitage to new levels. I am often depressed and anxious. I do stop myself from reaching the lowest levels of self pity. I am indeed one of God’s children. I await the day that I will join my loved ones who have made the journey Home. Death is not high on my agenda, but I do not fear it’s arrival. Someday I will never be too cold or too hot. I will have no need for a full pantry or a walker to cross a room. My hopes and dreams are intact and prioritized. Without the use of “pen and paper” I would lose my mind. Writing takes me to far away places. The ability to share my thoughts with others is my fondest of daily habits.
    Thanksgiving for this newest venue of conveying my dreams and sharing my thoughts!

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Thank you. I may complain but I realize that I’m so blessed. Lessons learned the hard way are the best remembered & used. Happiest of New Years!


  3. Well, I seem to be in the minority here, but I revel in being pampered when I am ill. Bring me tea. Bring me tissues. Read me a book. I am like a superannuated toddler, whining and demanding. Poor me, poor me, my nose hurts, rub my feet, tell me a story, scratch my back, ow my back, not so hard! Ooooh, heaven. If I could get away with it on a regular basis, I would, but apparently it’s only even SLIGHTLY permissible if one is sick.
    But I am not a one-way street; if Mr Tater would let me I would pamper him as well, but he is like you people – “I’m sick, leave me alone” – I just don’t get it.


    1. I think it is the fact I hate being unwell so if you treat me like I’m unwell it reinforces that in me and makes me hate it even more! The strange thing is that when Mrs G is poorly I treat her like you would like to be treated (even if I am unwell).

      Liked by 1 person

Think inside the box, feel free to leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s