I’m not well.
That’s a fairly innocuous statement which doesn’t convey the drama surrounding any illness that dares invade the temple (ok, slightly crumbling medieval church) that is my body.
You see, dear reader, my name is Beebee and I am a Hypochondriac.
So, the common cold which visits all of us fairly frequently, tends to result in me taking to my bed, iPad in hand (to google my symptoms, silly) convinced that I am the first confirmed case of a particularly virulent strain of a new human-race ending virus.
I don’t know why I’m like this – it’s certainly not for attention, when I was a child my mother was particularly horrible to us when we were ill and anything short of the Black Death was treated with scorn. My husband is the same really, he’s not big on sympathy and just mutters “go see the doctor” regardless of whether I’ve broken a nail or a limb. He might bring me the odd paracetamol accompanied by a saintly expression but that’s about it.
So, at the moment I am suffering from a hacking cough, a high temperature and weird electric shock-type pains in my arm. But these symptoms are multiplied tenfold if you add in the anxiety that befalls me at the first sign of illness.
I’ve googled Ebola and its not that (I’m not bleeding from my eyes), but I haven’t ruled out typhoid, beri-beri or multiple sclerosis.
I also feel particularly martyr-like as Husband is away so I’ve had to carry on regardless with no support. Child and Dog couldn’t give a stuff if I’m ill as long as they are fed and watered. Child has inherited his Grandma and Father’s disdain of me being ill although he did weaken for a second and brought me some cough medicine (he probably couldn’t hear the telly).
So, I’m struggling on (wo)manfully, I’ve been to work but didn’t do anything except cough, sigh, and rub my temples. All my colleagues are men so they obviously didn’t notice a thing. I tried ringing Husband in the hope of some sympathy but just got told off for ringing him at work. Child came home full of hormones and sulk and Dog just carried on being stupid and doggish. But two of my lovely girlfriends texted seeing if I needed anything and my dad rang to see how I was, so at least SOME people care. They’ll all be sorry when I’m carted off to a government lab in the middle of the night….
How do single parents do it? Really, I’m serious. How do they carry on day in day out, 24/7, illness or not? These people must be made of iron-encrusted titanium. Forget the SAS, our country should have single parents as a defence force cos they make The Terminator (and me)look like a right pussy.
Single parents everywhere, I salute you. You’re bloody brilliant.