When I was 10, getting sick meant…
- getting off of my chores
- pulling out a “sick kit” I had put together that had fun pages to color and games to play.
- Mom would make me Mrs. Grass’s chicken noodle soup.
- Mom would make me get extra rest.
- A nice fire roaring in the woodstove to keep my warm.
- No one expected me to do anything but lie down and rest.
- Downing cough syrup and lozenges to keep myself comfortable.
- Filling out “Mad Libs” sheets
- Mommy was right there to make everything all better.
Now, at 24, getting sick means…
- the chores are inevitably postponed. It just means I’ll have to do them all in a few days.
- Deciding that the library book that looked lame earlier suddenly appears to be the most interesting thing in the apartment.
- I have nothing easy to prepare in the cupboard so I decide to go hungry instead.
- I would kill to just be able to go to sleep.
- A nice space heater that I’m huddled over trying to stay warm.
- Calling in sick to work, and then spending the next couple hours calculating how much this being sick business is costing me in lost wages.
- Pacing myself on the cough syrup and lozenges so we can make it until next month’s paycheck.
- Researching our health insurance provisions and possible providers.
- All I can think is, “I want my mommy!!!!”