The Greek God(zilla) returned home from a recent overseas work trip with a stinking cold. At first, I assumed ‘stinking cold’ was man code for ‘don’t ask me to do anything’, but when he passed my ‘fancy a beer?’ test, I passed a sympathetic tissue.
The stinking cold turned into the flu, which then progressed into a throat infection and totally wiped him out for a week. So, armed with a carrier bag full of meds, he took himself off to bed with strict instructions from his doctor to stay there until he felt totally recovered. ‘Totally’ being 8-days later.
The only problem is, two days into his illness, I came down with it too.
In an ideal world, I would have also taken myself back to bed with lemsip and Netflix; but when you are a work from home mum in the mornings, stay at home mum in the afternoons, and CEO of the shopping/cooking/laundry ALL of the time, who exactly do you call in sick to?
The 5-year old boy who wakes you at 5am for a cuddle does not care that you have been shivering/sweating on a 2-hour rotation all night long and not slept a wink. He just wants a cuddle.
Nor does he understand how reading another bedtime story might set your throat on fire, and for every word that leaves your mouth a shard of glass is bestowed in its place.
No matter how physically weak you may feel, there are still meals to be prepared, teeth to be brushed, school runs to make and after school activities to uphold.
The fridge does not magically stock itself. Food does not turn itself into a home cooked meal. Clothes do not pick themselves up from the floor and hop into the washing machine.
Although, I sometimes suspect the Greek God(zilla) believes that fairies may be involved.
Clients cannot wait a week for you to feel well enough to respond to their email. Deadlines do not move.
So, you just get on with it.
You time your medication so that you are peaking on lemsip around 9am and 3pm. You go to bed at 7pm to get a head start on both the cough, and your 41-year old bladder, guaranteed between them to keep you up all night.
You dose yourself up and head to the ‘office’.
During lemsip highs, you achieve great things – school runs, food shops, bathing.
For the first time since working from home, you do what everyone assumes you do anyway, and stay in your pyjamas all day. Your clients call you a trooper. Your family asks what’s for lunch.