I’ve tried to avoid getting sick all flu season.
I’ve hidden behind office furniture when coworkers coughed, sneezed, and attempted to shake hands with me.
I’ve hand sanitized my pens; telephone; steering wheel; daughter; coffee mug; purse; door knobs with the hopes of creating an invisible barrier between me and the germs.
If I sensed a sniffle, a snot drip, poo stew, an upset tummy, sinus pain, the chills, lack of appetite, or a soar throat I ran.
Armed with a flu shot and five tubes of Very Berry hand sanitizer, I was certainly NOT getting sick!
My throat is swollen, my sinuses hurt, and I have no energy.
When women are sick they pull up their sleeves, put it on the back burner, thrown their head into the toilet and throw up at the same time they clean it!
I am nothing like the aforementioned woman.
I do not clean the toilet.
And I’m a whiney baby when I’m sick.
My vulnerable state forces cries and moans that sound like “mommy“ and “night time meds in the daytime.”
I look to my family for support while my throat swells twice its size (since they were the ones who probably gave it to me) and all I expect is tea, crackers, and stories written on beautiful paper of how I’ve touched their lives.
Being sick sucks.
I don’t want to be a super woman when my nose is red, my head is pounding, and I can’t be certain if a fart is going to turn into something more.
Sometimes Super Woman needs to call in sick and let Cat Woman take over both caseloads.
And sometimes Mommy needs to call in sick and let Daddy take over the household.