Home sick

I rarely – if ever – take sick days. I rarely get sick. I have a hard time calling in sick, even when I am sick. So when I’m sick enough to know that I need to stay home from work, it’s bad.

The dog was angry that everyone was still asleep at 9:30, so I’m awake. I’ve stretched. I’ve eaten oatmeal and had a cup of lemon tea. I hurt just about everywhere.

What do you associate with sick days? Is it the misery? the extra sleep? the trip to the doctor?  Do you worry about missing work, or feel guilty that you can’t make it in?

For me, my very first association is hot tea – and specifically either orange spice tea (Constant Comment) or black tea with a teaspoon of sugar and a dollop of milk. Those are the two kinds of tea my mom made for me when I wasn’t feeling well. I wish I had toast, because that was the other part of the equation.

The other thing I think about is incredibly sad. I was home sick on the day of the Challenger explosion. I remember it really clearly. I had a small TV that we’d borrowed from my grandma so I could watch stuff while I laid there in flu-ridden misery. I was almost eleven in January 1986, so I was home by myself. I was a big fan of Sally Ride, and I had paid a good bit of attention to the women headed into space.  (I could be an astronaut). These were my heroes. Of course I watched the launch.

I remember being devastated, and sick at the same time. I remember being in shock and horrified, watching it on live TV. I remember not quite knowing how to process all of the feelings. And to this day, that’s the first thing I think of when I call in sick. (Is there any wonder I don’t do it unless I absolutely must?)

Anyway, that wasn’t going to be the point of this post. (That’s what you get when you let the sick chick freewrite). I was going to ask what people do with their sick days. I don’t watch TV, and obviously, my mind is sort of wandering too much to be useful at much else. I could read.  But that sounds hard. My ear hurts.

Brett misheard me when I was asking him for help this morning. “What did you say?” so I translated, “I said whine, whine, whine, hungry, whine.”

So… whine, whine, whine, bored and not sleepy, whine.

 

 

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One thought on “Home sick

  1. Pingback: Gifts for Myself « A.K. Anderson | Science Fiction and Fantasy Author

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