Tuesday, 7 October 2008

Woman flu

I is poorly. My dose is blocked and by sinuses hurd. I hab a cold and I am miserable.

I am so not a good patient. I am - dare I say - almost as bad as a man. Snigger... nah! No woman is ever as bad as a man with their man flu. I am be ill but I still did the grocery shopping, catered a party, hosted a dozen people, cleaned the house, did the laundry, took the Babe to clinic, supervised homework and cooked dinner before falling into bed. When Himself gets the sniffles (sorry, sorry - MANFLU) all he can do is play a million games on the playstation, or sit at his laptop, he is far too ill to actually move.

The problem with the word "cold" is that it just doesn't convey quite the correct level of misery. Is it just the sniffles and a sore throat? Or are you literally unable to lift your head from the pillow without the room spinning? Do you need mother's chicken soup? In Himself's case this is a test. If you want me to make chicken soup you can go get me the ingredients. And if you are fit enough to push a trolley you are certainly fit enough to make the damn soup yourself. You're not sick, you malingerer!

The problem is, with me being a bad patient and him being a man (which essentially means the same thing, 'eh?) we tend to get a bit competitive about which of us has it worst.

"Oh I barely slept a wink, my back aches, my head is sore.. "
"Well you certainly snored well enough all night keeping me awake and I have a headache too but you don't hear me complaining!"
"I'm only snoring because my sinuses are backed up, my whole face hurts and now I have to go to work."
"Yeah, where you'll sit around and drink coffee all day while *I* have real work to do..."

It's never-ending.

In the meantime, I'm sitting here surrounded by crumpled tissues and a cold cup of honey and lemon (ugh). Better get on...

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