...my house was dirty. I had skipped floor mopping day to head to the doctor, so now my floor had spots all over it and I couldn't stand looking at them. I called my mom to let her know I was still alive, and as I was filling her in on my status, she interrupted...
Mom: What is that sound?
Mom: Seriously, it sounds weird. What is it?
Me: I'm sweeping.
Mom: Morgan, you are sick. Stop cleaning and lay down.
Me: I will, Mom... right after I get done sweeping. I won't even mop today, how about that?
Mom: Will you just listen to your mother and get some rest?
Me: Yeah, Mom, I will...
... I didn't rest. After I got off the phone with my mother, I did mop. I couldn't have swept the whole downstairs and not mopped, that would have just been ridiculous. So I mopped, pushed myself entirely too hard, and as I collapsed on the couch, I heard...
Listen to your mother and get some rest.
I hadn't listened to my mother, and now my body was forcing me to rest out of pure exhaustion, which has me wondering if that's why I get sick so frequently. I've been in Arizona since late June, and have been knocked-on-my-ass-sick just about every single month since I've been here. That's 1 case of salmonella (or food poisoning- not sure which one, but it was horrible), 2 strep throat and 2 acute sinus infections, all in 6 months. Each month, the Universe figures out some way to force me to take a break from life.
I wish they'd figure out how to have me win a personal assistant for a day contest to make me take a break from life instead. This sick shit is getting old.
Every bout of sickness is the same for me, in terms of how I deal with it.
- Days 1-2 (varied): Dose up on vitamin C and convince myself I'm not getting sick.
- Day 3 (or 2 if the sickness is working double time): Wake up feeling like death ran over me with a mack truck. There's no denying now that I'm sick, so I plant myself on the couch and watch Netflix all day, passing in and out of consciousness and doped up on over-the-counter meds.
- Day 4: Doctor visit day. I get my prescription meds and come home to plant myself on the couch, again, and watch Netflix... after making a trip to the grocery store, of course, to stock up on sick stuff. So I might be infecting everyone at the grocery store. Oh, well. It's going around, they are bound to already have had it or get it from someone at the office... or grocery store.
- Day 5: With one full day of meds in me, I'm feeling better and think I can go ahead and clean the entire house. Meds wear off, I collapse and take more meds. Meds start working, I'm back up and cleaning. It's a vicious cycle.
- Day 6: Now I really am feeling better, but have regretted not completely milking the sick thing, so I announce to everyone in the house that I am still sick and will be resting- they are to fend for themselves for the day. And now I can actually rest because I spent the day before practically killing myself to get the house clean, so now I can relax and not feel guilty.
- Day 7: Can't fake it anymore, and I'm feeling much better, so now it's back to life as usual.
Knowing what I know about how I handle sickness, does it ever make me change the way I deal with sickness? Nope. Just like when you hear those words...
Listen to your mother.
Do you ever really listen? Nope. Do you wish you had listened when you look back on it later? Yes. Every. Single. Time. Because this week, I would have a few more episodes of 'Eureka' under my belt, a nap or two to counteract the insomnia, and would probably be a whole heck of a lot better off than I currently am... all if I had just listened to my mother, quit cleaning, and rested.