Pardon me

I have a cold. It is damn near impossible to remain lady-like when your nose is constantly running. I think about Scarlett O'Hara, and how glad I am that I don't have to carry around the hanky AND the parasol!

So, missing work is not an option. Yeah, I know I'm sharing the germs, but I've already got it, so what do I care? Yeah, I know I'm a nurse and that last sentence was just wrong, but hey, I don't feel good and it's the truth. So there. I'm not taking care of patients, and I'm not at the hospital. No public health crisis will result from me going to work with the sniffles. Besides, I use gallons of that hand sanitizer...I wash my hands all the time as if I'm scrubbing in to surgery. I won't touch bathroom door handles or elevator buttons with my fingertips, and I never drink from a public water fountain. I think it's completely fair that I should be ticked off that after taking all those precautions, I still get sick!

Last night, I went home from work and I just felt miserable. I do not like to take medications of any kind, because I don't like experiencing side effects. And for some reason, I seem to be hypersensitive to nearly everything. So, whenever I need an anesthetic, everybody refuses to believe me when I tell them it doesn't take much to put me under. But, really, how many people out there would even tell you that? Last night, I had nothing in the house except NyQuil, my husband's cold medicine. I could've sent him out for something else, but I didn't feel good enough to supervise my son while he went shopping. Because the man can't just go and pick up something and come right back. Nope. A trip like that would take him at least an hour. He likes to look around. I know...most men aren't like that. And most women aren't like me...I hate to shop! But that's another blog...

So, I take the NyQuil at his urging. Because he feels sorry for me. I think there must've been something on tv he wanted to watch. I took it right before dinner. By 8:15, I was sound asleep in an upright position on the sofa! With my son running around like a little maniac. I kept trying to open my eyes, and they felt like lead. So, my loving husband helped me up the stairs and put me to bed. I can imagine him on the other side of the bedroom door, dancing a jig. He put our son to bed. He walked our dogs. He cleaned up the dinner dishes. Maybe I'll start taking NyQuil every night....

I woke up this morning, and it was like peering through dense fog. I couldn't focus my eyes and I felt light-headed. Great. A hangover from the medicine. It is afternoon as I sit here and type this, and it's only the last hour or so that I've finally started to feel lucid again. My nose, however, has been active all day. Lucky me. So the challenge is to stay all sweet and polite while feeling like I've been hit by a truck. I catch myself saying "pardon me" constantly during times like this. Pardon me that I look like a mess and feel even worse than that. Pardon me that I can't seem to control this thing on my face. Pardon me that you can't understand much of what I'm saying. Pardon me that my throat feels really sore and scratchy and my voice sounds like a teenage boy's.

Pardon me that in only a matter of days, my son, my husband, or both of them will be stricken with this and then I will have to take care of them whether I'm feeling better by then or not. Yes, I'm bitter about that. When I'm sick, I just want to be left alone. They need loads of attention. I don't get that. Oh, but pardon me....