Home Sick + Mom Memories

I stayed home sick today. I never get sick. So rarely do get sick that I scarcely know how to diagnose myself. For example, today I kept telling curious parties it felt like a vice was around my head, or that it felt like an elephant sat on my face all night long (uhhmm). It took me until late this afternoon to consider, Hmmm, perhaps it's my sinuses...

Oye vey.

Anywho, I ended up working most of the day - I was marvelously efficient, despite being confined to my bed with a cat napping against my side. She occasionally jabbed at me for some chin scratches and other forms of affection. I was happy to oblige.

This evening, I tried to think back to memories of staying home sick from school as a kid. I couldn't remember too much... but here are a few notes:

• I remember... I confess to... thrusting the thermometer under a desk lamp to heat it up (only a small handful of times...), so Mom would keep me home, naturally assuming I had a risky fever. But I definitely recall once or twice leaving it under the light too long. Surely no one would believe a 135° temperature. Rightly so.
• If I wasn't gross and puking (i.e. really sick), I remember Mom bringing me down to the backroom (most families call it a "den" or "TV room"), setting me up on the long couch with my own bedroom pillows and blankets, and turning on some pleasant program.
• I remember her serving me apple juice cut with water. It tasted so far beyond boring, but her intentions were kind, I imagine.
• For food, I remember being brought a shallow Tupperware or bowl of dry Honey Nut Cheerios, or Saltine crackers. Both tasted delicious.
• I probably napped or simply vegged the day away. Mostly, she stayed with me, and made phone calls from the kitchen. When I got older, and could stay on my own, she (seemingly hesitantly) left for work, and called to check in.
• I don't recall too much of the evenings. I was likely brought soup or a small taste of whatever she served the rest of the family for supper. Soup and more Saltines, or an English muffin-- that sounds likely.
• The next day, I was probably well enough to go back to school. I remember her ordering the backroom be "Lysol-ed," to ensure no one else was infected with my germs. (She did this for every family member, so I didn't feel quite like a leper.) 

That's about all I can remember - but hell, it's way more than I thought I remembered when I set out to write this post.

Glad to report: Tonight, I am feeling better, and even cooked myself a delicious meal*, after which I ate, wrote this, and passed out- content, well-fed, and all that jazz.

*Mix cooked rice noodles from Thai Kitchen Soup with a totally awesome stirfry (consisting of... shall we say... chicken, broccoli, peppers, mushrooms, carrots, bean sprouts, water chestnuts, asparagus, pea pods, garlic, plus oyster and hoisin sauce), scoop into bowl, and feel better! I mean... enjoy...!

I even managed to start a new self portrait tonight, among other artistic endeavors!

See? Eight hours of bed rest plus an evening spent reminiscing about sick days as a child plus a good home-cooked meal with many veggies makes for quite a productive day, and an arguably healthier gal besides.

Auf Wiedersehen!

L

Post Script: In totally unrelated news-- a friend shared this video with me today, and I must admit, I laughed until I wept. Watched the entire thing and tallied up a list of things my own darling Italian mother says. For my family, it's about 90% accurate. (Mom doesn't comment much on garlic [it gives her agita], doesn't use the word "phenomenal" in excess, doesn't use Facebook, never talks about pasta as "macaroni," and doesn't curse... with the exception of SH*T! -- On that note, be advised - profanity lurks within this video-- don't say I didn't warn you, Darling Reader! On a separate, though endearing note, the friend who shared this with me added, "I wish I was Italian!" Don't we all, dahling, don't we all.)