*My mom only allowed us to drink pop when we were sick.
I wrote that really adorable (and kind of pathetic) poem when I was like 8 years old and home sick from school. I still get it stuck in my head whenever I come down with something. We’re a week out from our board meeting, so I really don’t have time for this sniffles business. I’ve waged a full scale attack against my cold– Vicam, Dayquil, Pseudoephed, vitamins, orange juice, hot tea, water and Advil– and I shall win!
I was convinced for most of college that any form of illness could be cured with an Airbourned laced screwdriver at the local pub (it made sense at the time– vodka to kill the germs, orange juice for the vitamin C, with an Airbourne kicker). I’ve modified my health regime somewhat since then but I’m still not quite at what normal people refer to as “calling in sick”.
And of course– this is all my mother’s fault. She firmly has a “walk it off” theory to both injury and illness. My cousin Nellie broke her leg once when she slipped and fell on our front porch. My mom told her to ice it. Unless we were bleeding, vomiting profusely or had a really really high temperature, we were going to school. And it is safe to assume that everyone is faking it (sick– that is).
I stayed home sick from work once last year when I had a nasty cold, a sore throat and generally felt like I was dying. I felt so guilty about calling in (what if they thought I was faking it!?) that I walked a mile to the local CVS Minute Clinic in the middle of winter to get my throat assaulted with a q-tip. When I called my mother that afternoon to tell her the test was negative, she asked if I was going to go into the office since I didn’t actually have strep.
And that is why I have severe sick-guilt. And have only called in sick to work like 4 times in my life. I feel that I should add that my mother was a nurse by profession for many years and in the case that you’re actually sick (and can prove it), she’s the best person in the whole world to have your bedside. Sorry for calling you out, Mom. Maybe I should lay off the cold medicine a bit.