Just be patient.
I'm still flu-ridden with the hacking cough of an asthmatic ninety year-old man, but it looks like I'm over the worst of it. Four days eating musk sticks whilst watching Maury Povich fondle pregnant teenagers on cable tv can really cure a girl's ills. Having stretched out limply on the couch beckoning for hot water bottles and wishing for my mama, however, made me think about the different types of sickies there are.
1. The Hero.
My ex was utterly this guy. He would be sweating blood and coughing up what appeared to be small Sudanese children, but five minutes after staggering out of bed he'd be in the shed banging away at planks or whatever men do in sheds. I'd try to coax him back to sickbed with promises of chest rubs and hot cups of Lemsip but he would insist he was one hundred percent fighting fit - 'just a bit of a sniffle'.
Later, when the lower part of his leg would inevitably fall off, he'd breezily pshaw it was 'only a scratch' and refuse to go to the doctor because...'he'd just tell me my leg's fallen off. And I know that already.'
2. The Barbara Cartland.
Full make-up, frilly dressing-gown, pained languid sighs and martyrish attitude. No-one understands the pain I'm in, LORD JUST TAKE ME NOW AND BE DONE WITH THIS AGONY etcetera. Also able to consume large quantities of candy and be absorbed in magazines with big titted morons on the cover.
3. The Limpet.
Couch. Meet body. You will be joined together for the next week. Please remember to turn over occasionally so as to avoid unsightly bedsores.
4. The Blair Witch.
It's only a head cold, but BW is curled up in foetal position after the first sneeze whimpering 'please don't let me die' and holding on to your hand as though it may drop off. When they start acting like they can't remember you and tremblingly promising you the farm after they perish, cut loose and run.
5. The Hans Moleman.
'No, don't worry yourself over me. I'm sure it's only TB. And a mild case at that. Just you go off and have yourself a good time. If I die while you're out, at least I've got the dog for company. That and my precious memories. Plus if I get hungry I'm sure I can tear out my own kidneys and eat them. Have a nice night.'
6. The Only Child.
FETCH ME THINGS. FETCH ME THINGS NOW. NEVER STOP FETCHING ME THINGS.
Have I missed any?
818 days til the next election.
Comments
so i'm guessing you'd be 6 then?
(p.s. still trying to track down that nurses uniform. the schmitz seems to have lent it to some other blogtor for "personal use". but i'm hot on its trail don't you worry.)
7. The Tim "The Toolman" Tailor.
Prone to slight bouts of exaggeration due mainly to the unsympathetic nature of their nursing staff/wives/anyone.
"Arrrrgggghhhhhh, I've just cut my hand off, crap, crap" "What do you mean it's just a papercut?!? It hurts like a muth*&@UGJKER!!!"
"Arrrrrggghhhhhhhh!!" "My heart condition can't take much more of this..... my heart condition.... you know... the high blood pressure" "Arrrrgggghhh!"
The title of this sickie can also be renamed to "Adam's current never-ending, attention-seeking housemate"
8. The Catholic
I am evil and this illness is God's way of punishing me for my sins.
Not as prevalent in Australia, but in overwhelmingly Catholic countries in Latin America, or places like Poland there is this small but distint minority.
9. The Purple Prose-ac
Insists on describing every symptom in graphic detail, with special attention to fluids secreted. Uses too many adjectives. Uses the word "leaking". Also a popular stock comic character, esp. in theatre.
10. The Projector
Explains that their partner is really unwell when they don't turn up for an event, when it's plainly obvious said partner just doesn't want to see you and your stupid idiot friends. Does this every time you meet.
11. The Delusional Sick Nerd
Coughs up blood whilst dry-reaching in the toilet, then goes to Google to research the phenomena. Finding little help on many medical sites, they turn to blogs for help.
Am I dying?
No seriously, I'm coughing up blood, have high fever, stiff joints, delusions of happy places.
Sympathy - I'll bring you chicken soup.
The 'Hans Moleman' sounds a lot like a variant on the 'Stereotypical Jewish Mother'...
12. The Excuse-User.
Aha. A sore throat. And a pain in my stomach. Time to call in sick!
As I said on my forum...
I'm the silent type...
My family will be off doing things and then suddenly think "oh crap where's Nikita, we haven't heard from here in over 24 hours" they will then come to check on me and proclaim "oh good, you're not dead".
13. the spreader.
This is the guy that still rocks up to the office, via the train/tram/bus, coughs, splutters and generally spreads the good germs around.
The Sook.
Usually male. Puppy dog eyes. Incapacitated by a sniffle. Unable to take own vitamins/remedies, make own tea, wipe own bottom. Behaves and talks like a five year old, demands sympathy. Never returns favour or sympathy when you are sick.
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