sick
I drink guilt-free Orange Freezes when I am sick. Its one of the few perks of feeling lousy. They are cold and refreshing and when made with orange juice, I count them as one of my fruit food groups for the day. Well, that's a stretch but hey ... I'm sick.
When I was little my mom made me weak hot tea and saltine crackers spread with the thinnest layer of butter. She'd bring a plate of them to my bed, a couple spread with grape jelly as well but always some plain with just butter. If the sickness lasted more than a day, I would get a magazine as well. Seventeen or Glamour.
I miss my mom. No one takes care of you quite like a mother. No matter how wonderful your significant other, there's nothing like a mother. (cute, huh?)
Now that I am a mother its a pain to be sick. I stare at dirty dishes and laundry piled on the floor and wonder who will do them. Oh wait, its me. Layers of dust thicken and the milk container has only an inch left in the bottom, just enough for morning tea.
The bed beckons but the house around me screams, "hey I could use a little attention over here." Such a dilemma. If I don't do a little cleaning I won't know if my sneeze is from chest congestion or because of the overwhelming dirty house.
These are the times I pray I never get cancer. I know I couldn't make it through the treatments. Feeling out of sorts with a virus and bladder infection are one thing but to have ugly cancer cells invading my body and chemo waging war with my immune system is unfathomable to me. I admire cancer survivors. I don't need to walk a mile in their shoes to hold them in high esteem.
When I was at my worst four years ago with ulcerative colitis, I got a taste of serious illness. Sitting in the bathroom going from both ends with severe cramping and bleeding scared the crap out of me. ( knew the pun was coming but could not stop it)
Now this bout of sickness is child's play compared to all that but I want the lethargic cloud looming over me to disperse. I don't even feel like reading ... yikes!
Hacking, Caroline
When I was little my mom made me weak hot tea and saltine crackers spread with the thinnest layer of butter. She'd bring a plate of them to my bed, a couple spread with grape jelly as well but always some plain with just butter. If the sickness lasted more than a day, I would get a magazine as well. Seventeen or Glamour.
I miss my mom. No one takes care of you quite like a mother. No matter how wonderful your significant other, there's nothing like a mother. (cute, huh?)
Now that I am a mother its a pain to be sick. I stare at dirty dishes and laundry piled on the floor and wonder who will do them. Oh wait, its me. Layers of dust thicken and the milk container has only an inch left in the bottom, just enough for morning tea.
The bed beckons but the house around me screams, "hey I could use a little attention over here." Such a dilemma. If I don't do a little cleaning I won't know if my sneeze is from chest congestion or because of the overwhelming dirty house.
These are the times I pray I never get cancer. I know I couldn't make it through the treatments. Feeling out of sorts with a virus and bladder infection are one thing but to have ugly cancer cells invading my body and chemo waging war with my immune system is unfathomable to me. I admire cancer survivors. I don't need to walk a mile in their shoes to hold them in high esteem.
When I was at my worst four years ago with ulcerative colitis, I got a taste of serious illness. Sitting in the bathroom going from both ends with severe cramping and bleeding scared the crap out of me. ( knew the pun was coming but could not stop it)
Now this bout of sickness is child's play compared to all that but I want the lethargic cloud looming over me to disperse. I don't even feel like reading ... yikes!
Hacking, Caroline
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on Tuesday, March 03, 2009 at 12:43 PM.
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1 Comments:
Sorry you're sick, sister. Are you too sick to write another post?
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