The Luxurious Virus
The second a mother first holds her baby, she should automatically be granted super-human immunity.
Just my opinion.
We, as mothers (okay dads, you can be in on this too), shouldn’t be susceptible to cold, flu, or any other virus. (Or lice. Let’s put lice in that category too.)
It is miserable to be sick and to have to also parent kids who may or may not also be sick. Unfortunately, the sickness timing is rarely optimal. As far as I’ve concluded in my 5 years of parenting, there are three possible options in the virus-passing realm:
- Mom gets sick while the kids are well, thus creating an awful dichotomy of bed-ridden caregiver to wound-up and not-sick offspring.
- Everyone is sick at once, which is slightly more favorable in most cases, except when sick parent has to clean up after sick kid. It’s just not fun.
- Mom is well while kids are sick. This, initially, seems like a win for Mom. She can do all sorts of things around the house while her sickie-poos lay around and get better. Unfortunately, this usually means Mom is going to get sick in a few days, thus beginning the cycle of sickness over again (see bullet point #1).
There is one, and only one, exception to this. I discovered this wonderful exception this past weekend. I call it: The Luxurious Virus.
For the past week or so, I’ve been ignoring a little tingle in the back of my throat. I ignored it further, when it became a slightly runny nose and a headache. Allergies, I was certain, were the cause of my mildly annoying symptoms.
Friday night, I went out with some friends, enjoyed dinner, laughed my butt off at the stories shared.
Saturday, I buckled down and hammered out the things I needed to do for my about.com training. I finished up several articles that I had deadlines on. I was gone nearly all day at the library (until the WiFi stopped working) and then Starbucks (until the WiFi turned out to be so slow I wanted to punch my computer), and finally home (where the WiFi worked, but my kids also ran around, played, and yelled the whole time). I could feel my slightly annoying cold symptoms turning much, much worse.
3am Sunday morning, I woke up and began scouring the medicine cabinets for something that would make me feel better. My throat was on fire, my stomach turned, and my head was pounding. I stood over the sink, dizzy, and yelled for Clint. He didn’t hear me. I was sure I was going to pass out on the kitchen floor. I shouted his name again.
I was brought back to memories of the hospital after Colby was born. Clint slept on the bench next to me, there was a loud fan overhead. Colby cried to be fed. I had just had a c-section and couldn’t move to get him. I yelled for Clint. He didn’t hear me. I screamed for Clint. Still didn’t hear me. I chucked things at Clint. Not a single stir. I grabbed the Winnie the Pooh balloon from a bouquet of flowers beside me and poked at Clint with the plastic rod. Finally, he woke up.
Back to current-day while I teetered over the sink in the kitchen, he still hadn’t heard me call his name. By now, I was sweating and could see my pale-faced reflection in the window behind our sink. Clint still didn’t appear.
My dinner, however, did.
Teeth chattering, feeling miserable, I found a blanket and slept on the couch. In the morning, when everyone woke up, I went to the bedroom to sleep. And sleep. And sleep.
I came out for 30 minutes here, an hour there, to eat, drink some water, and say hi to the kids. Then, I’d nod off on the couch, and Clint would say, “Go lay down in the bedroom, babe.” With a grateful nod, I would leave and go back to the room.
There were several times, when I was climbing into bed and pulling the covers over my head that I thought, “This is luxurious.”
Sure, I felt like crap. My throat felt like it was going to close up on me and my head felt like a Sumo wrestler was sitting on it, but I got to go back to sleep. The cool summer breeze blew through our bedroom window, gently cooling my fevered head. I buried my face into my pillow, grateful that I had a chance to sleep off this virus, thanks to a wonderful husband and a perfectly-timed weekend cold.
Two things occurred to me, while I was sick yesterday:
- I am married to an awesome guy, and
- It is incredibly pathetic that I found my virus luxurious.
I’m still not feeling 100% today, but moderately better than yesterday. That’s definitely a good thing, because I don’t think it’d be responsible parenting to curl up into bed every hour while my kids fend for themselves…
Update: I texted my doctor/friend…
Dear Dr. B.,
Please develop a vaccine that makes it so moms can never get sick. I would appreciate it. Thank you.
Signed,
Snotty in Seattle
So what if it’s not possible? Can’t blame a mama for trying.
