Friday 21 September 2012

A strong constitution or no time to be ill?



I know that I may not be the strongest person or have the ability to party until 4am any more, but I like to think that for a woman of a certain age I am doing quite well and pretty healthy.  Generally health is not something that any of us think about unless we have a problem and feel under the weather or unfortunately have something more serious to contend with.

As in most family homes we go through periods of peace and then everyone seems to consecutively come down with one bug or another and our home becomes ‘Animal Hospital’ until the germs disappear.

If the boys are ill and have to stay home then I consider myself quite a good Florence Nightingale, firm but fair and happy to give chicken soup when required.  If my other half is unwell he doesn’t like to give into it unless he is really bad, and although I hate to admit it he does make a good patient.  The problem comes if, for some reason, I am unwell.  The school run still needs to be done, and I can’t expect my other half to take the day off work just because I tell him that I am not exaggerating and the flu I say I have is actually flu and not just the cold he believes it to be.

Things become more complicated if for some reason I have needed to go into hospital.  When my other half had to have his knee sorted out due to thinking he was a Premier League Footballer when he is more Conference League, he saw the doctor, picked a date and went in.  When I needed to sort out a wrist problem I had to make sure hubby was around for a couple of days, ensure the boys were sorted out, stupidly worried that none of the beds would need changing, made sure the shelves were stacked with enough food to last a month, and checked that whenever I had the op it fitted round the family.

Being a wife and mother has, I have decided, made it very difficult to have the luxury of the time to snuggle under the duvet if I am not well.  A cup of tea, a couple of Ibuprofen and just carry on with the occasional moan is usually what happens.  Luckily I know that that it is never serious, but occasionally it would be nice if there could be a male Florence giving me the TLC I am sure I deserve.