Jetlag recovery? Tick. 100% gratitude to be back home in Australia? Tick. Delighted cat and reasonably delighted-but-still-cool teenage son? Tick.
Bullshit lung infection which had me sleeping almost sitting up for three nights then coughing my chest inside out for almost a week? Goddam tick.
I AM SUCH A BAD PATIENT. As in, totally IM-patient. Don’t come near me; don’t sympathise with me; don’t tell me I’ll be better soon; don’t tell me about your neighbour who had it too, and how long it lasted, or the worst cough you ever had…
Just leave me alone to wallow in my pathetic, grumpy, spoilt-brat sick bed, and give me a wide berth until further notice.
Unless you’re my acupuncturist of course. In which case, I want you to come back early from your much-deserved holiday, and stick every single needle you have into every possible meridian point, all over my body, even if they grab or make me wince, and please just help make me better.
[The illness has actually shifted now, but this petulant rant was sitting around in my draft folder, so I thought I’d send it out into the world, to combat my slight shame at being such a gripe.]
What are you like when you’re sick? Do you sponge up any loving care that’s offered, or growl like a grizzly?
Meanwhile, in gratitude for veggie soup with garlic, ginger, & tumeric, G xO