Being sick and its privileges

Recently, I caught the common cold.

(To which, S was bewildered and says, “You can catch that there?!” These temperate people don’t understand us tropical folks.)

Particularly for something like a common cold, which entails sneezing, coughing, changing of the sound of your voice, looking like shit, etc, it becomes ever clear that one is ill, and this brings out the empathy in many.

This is in comparison to one having a headache, for example. You could feel equally shitty but others may think you’re just being lazy.

Upon getting back home midway during office hours yesterday, I took a three hour nap. After which, I got up for dinner, and dad said since I was ill, I didn’t need to do the dishes after dinner. Wow. Thanks, daddy.

I watched Babylon A.D. on TV, but before it ended, I felt I needed another nap, so I took another hour’s nap. Got up to watch the ending, then took another hour-long nap. Got up again to walk a little, wash up a little, but continued to feel like crap. I took some drowsy medication that helped me sleep through the night, despite having already slept most of my day away.

This morning, I got up with no voice. And I thought, “Okay, back to bed” and woke up with a different voice. I croaked like a boy going through puberty. Mum made me porridge every meal with the finest ingredients, chopped finely, as she thinks when one is sick, one eats baby food best. They were both really sweet. Had lunch, went back to bed for another effectively five hours nap –┬áNormally by now, my mum would’ve said that I’m sleeping too much. But both let me rest so, so well.

That said, I did wake up a few times. Once was when S called. He said, “You sound different.” I said, “Thanks.” His heart ached (I think) as I whined about not being able to sing. He said that must be tough on me.

(To be fair, even though I make S sound like a douche, he also said sweet things about how he would’ve taken care of me. He’s really a sweetheart and I’m just mean. The other day he asked if I love him or making fun of him, I hesitated really long, then said the former only a teeny weeny bit more than the latter.) Anyway.

Finally, after spending most of my time in my favourite place in the world (my bed), I got up for dinner. Dad asked if I was feeling better. I said yes. Instantly, the privileges are taken away.

Okay, time to do the dishes.

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