Sick days? We don't get no stinkin' sick days...

It was Sunday night when I started to feel it: the tightness in my throat, pounding in my head, crushing pressure on my chest, the sensation of a 50 pound weight crushing my sinuses, it hurt to breathe, I couldn't sleep...yep, I was getting a cold. But the majority of the symptoms were not as a result of a pesky virus. Oh no, this was something much, much worse. What I was suffering from was anxiety. I was making myself even more sick by worrying and stressing about this cold...

We all know that being a mom is tough work. It is even tougher when you're trying to tackle your daily mom/wife/housekeeper duties while battling an illness at the same time. You bend over to pick up 50 bajillion legos and you have to hold your eyes in their sockets as you stand back up ever so slowly so as to avoid them busting out of your skull. You would like to eat that homemade meal lovingly prepared for your family but your throat feels as if you've been gargling with a Brillo pad; you're pretty sure you didn't put chunks of broken glass into your casserole but it sure as hell feels like it. And it would be so nice to go outside and play tag with the kids, but you're afraid that your head will simply disconnect itself from your body and go rolling down the street. BUT as moms, we muddle through. We stop to throw up and then carry on about our day. We pause to wipe our own noses and then check the kids for good measure. We may have 40 tissues in our pockets and would love nothing more than a nap with a toddler, but there is homework to be done, laundry to be folded, and floors to clean (which actually isn't that bad when you figure out how to do it while LAYING on the floor...very efficient) We all know that moms don't get a day off. Check Facebook, I guarantee one of your mom friends has commented that although she feels like shit and would love nothing more than to go back to bed, she has to carry on. Moms are tough cookies, we have no other choice. So yes, I feel like crap and would love to spend the day laying on the couch, I'll be busy with my Lysol. Because like I said before, I'm stressed. I'm in a near state of panic over this cold. Why? Because I'm scared shitless that my husband is going to come down with it too.

I would rather spend the rest of my living days with a cold than have to deal with my husband having one for a few days. Sure I can't breathe and it hurts to move, but he's still healthy. I'd like to claw my own eyes out and would welcome clear sinuses for even a minute, but he hasn't shown any signs of illness yet. I will be thankful for that. I will deal with my symptoms and carry on about my day, thankful that he is still virus-free. Because although I don't feel well, there is honestly nothing worse than dealing with a sick husband. He acts as if the world is coming to a screeching halt because he's got a stuffy nose. He feels like shit and comes home and is instantly in bed, because he needs 15 hours of sleep when his throat is scratchy. Nothing else can be done because he is miserable. Kinda funny because if I were to completely blow everything else off because I had a cold, he would have something to say about it. But God forbid I criticize, because after all, he's dying. He may as well skip work and just drive himself to the crematorium, he may not make it one more day. I have tried to be more sympathetic when he's sick but the closest I've ever come to that is NOT smothering him with his pillow, NOT aiming the bottle of NyQuil at his head when I threw it at him...Oops. Did I say that? I meant TO him...when I threw it TO him. Then I fight the burning urge to NOT add Drano to the water he asked me to get for him, and NOT slamming the bedroom door on my way downstairs to help with homework, make dinner, unload the dishwasher,and play with the kids (trying desperately to keep them as quiet as possible because "daddy doesn't feel well") Bullshit. This is when I want to get out the drum set they got for Christmas and park them right outside the bedroom door. Because when I feel like there is a herd of elephants pounding on my skull, I still have to drive to hockey practice, listen to the 5th grader practice the evil recorder, play Barbies, pick up from hockey practice, stop at the store, read books, monitor bedtime and then fold just one more load of laundry...afterall, since I was not feeling well, I am one load behind schedule. Just ONCE it'd be nice for him to come home when I feel like ass and take over so I can go lay in bed. But then of course I'd be unable to relax thinking of all that needed to be done and feeling guilty because I'm not the one doing it. But THEN I wonder, does HE ever feel guilty for any of that? Does HE ever feel bad that I'm still having to change shitty diapers, wipe asses, make lunches, and pick up the house when I feel like shit? Not likely. So I'm going to carry on, because that's what moms do. I will carry on, do what needs to be done, and pray like hell that my husband doesn't get sick...gotta go find my Lysol...