Moms Can't Get Sick

The old saying dictates that moms can’t get sick.  It’s with good reason.  Things fall apart.  Everyone suffers.  Even- especially- the moms, who have even more work to do once they are healthy again.  When I became a mom and realized just how vital my role was, I took the saying that moms can’t get sick one step further and started to tell myself: moms don’t get sick.  I can’t get sick, therefore I won’t get sick.  Mind over matter.  For the most part, this does work.  If I feel a cold coming on, I drink more liquids and take Zicam religiously.  I do not let myself believe that I am getting sick.  Most of the time I do not get sick. 

Last Friday I had an exceptionally busy day.  I had been cooking up a storm the entire week and Friday was the last day of cooking before three straight days of entertaining large crowds.  It was also the day I sliced the place where my right index finger meets my palm on a tin can.  My first thought was that I did not have time to seek medical attention.  I wrapped that finger in paper towel after paper towel until it finally stopped bleeding 45 minutes later.  In the meantime I continued prepping food with my left hand, washed a bunch of dishes, and drove the afternoon carpool.  Mind over matter. 

Once in a while this mantra does not work, and I am forced to succumb to sickness.  Sometimes these bad situations have a silver lining.  A few months ago I was stricken with a stomach virus.  I was bed-ridden.  I ate nothing for four straight days.  I drank only a cocktail of gingerale and powerade.   Once everyone, including myself, accepted the fact that I was very sick, we all fell into a makeshift routine.  My sister came to help one afternoon.  Shimmy came home earlier than usual and took care of the kids.  I did what I could, which was nurse the baby, drive carpool when there were no other options, and sit on the porch steps of a friend, who was afflicted with the same plague, while we watched our kids play with bubbles pour bubble solution on the ground, each other, and themselves.  It sounds horrible, right?  And it was.  Except for the part where I was bed-ridden, couldn’t do anything, and couldn’t eat.  I watched the entire first season of Downtown Abbey (OMG IT’S THE BEST SHOW EVER).  I got a well-deserved break from my 24/7 mom job.  And I lost three pounds, which I have successfully kept off!  In some ways it was a best week ever. 

A few weeks ago something similar happened.  I had had a migraine for close to a week straight.  My doctor suggested I try a new strategy which was to take my prescription meds + an OTC pain reliever.  I didn’t have that particular pain reliever at home, so I left Shimmy in charge, and headed to the store.  There was road work being done, so it took an extra long time to get there.  Once I had bought the pain reliever, I also decided to treat myself to some dark chocolate-covered almonds.  I headed back to my car to sit and eat my snack and take my pills.  Then I decided to pop into the wine store to stock up for the weekend.  They happened to be having an in-store wine tasting, so I sat down and had a nice time tasting wines and talking to the staff.  I headed home, my migraine mitigated, and my spirits lifted.  A day that began in excruciating pain ended up becoming a delightful afternoon of me time.

So, while it is true that moms can’t get sick, and shouldn’t get sick; sometimes they do.  And when they do, they should milk it for all it’s worth.  Because, before they know it, the jig will be up and they’ll have to get out of bed to start the 20 loads of laundry and two sinks full of dirty dishes that await them.