Bedside Manner

After every winter I write about someone being sick, it seems, and this time it was me. Two full separate weeks out of commission, a month apart.

It was ruthless ear, nose, throat, sinus  whole head issues that went on for days, relieved only briefly by a Hulk-Smash pancreatitis attack that made me forget all about my sore throat for a few hours. Misery, I tell you! (at least as far as run-of-the-mill illness goes, but I've been known to dramatize)

You've probably seen the memes about moms not getting "sick days"-- Mom shuffles around like death warmed over while kids hang off her arms. Luckily for me, I do get a for-real sick day. Hubs stays home to watch the kids while I lie in bed, wishing I was never born, in peace and quiet, save for the hourly "WHERE'S MAMA".

And then every so often they come visit me to see if I'm better yet.

"Don't bother your mom, she's sleeping", I hear. "Stay downstairs."

Wait for it. 

*footsteps*

*door opens*

*stage whispers* "Hi Mama, you sick?"

"Guys! Where are you?"
"Mama! Are you going to sleep ALL DAY LONG?" *stretches eyelid*

*Hubs in the doorway* "Hey! Mom's sleeping. Come down."
"She's not sleeping, Dada."

Their bedside manner needs work, I think to myself. Their consideration for the gravely ill is often lacking.

But then, you know what, sometimes they surprise me and go all out to make sure I'm taken care of, whether I like it or not. Like this.

Now, lest you think it's a humblebrag about being suffocated by my children's loving gestures (what's a mother to do with all this love?), I should add that I have about five minutes after that before they're back to check to see if I'm better NOW. I mean, it is like forever for a kid. Days and days of no one being Mater. Spring is here now, though, so hopefully that's it for a while.