I don't get sick. Ok, I guess I should say I rarely get sick, almost never. Normally I start to feel a scratchy throat and a bit crappy, I take two Tylenol, go for a long run, wrap and scarf around my throat and go to bed and I wake up feeling better. Refusing to accept the sick goes a long way to staying healthy. This week, however, it got me. I tried to run it out, but the next day I just felt woozy and weak and achy, with that cotton head feeling and a cough. On Wednesday I gave in to it and spent a huge portion of the day letting the sick win. Whenever I do this, I feel like I'm six and I remember my mom taking care of me. I invariably go back to what made me feel good then.
So, without further ado, the things I like about being sick:
My mom used to buy a bag of them when I got sick, or tangerines, or clementines, and she would peel one after the other for me to eat. That tangy sweetness made me feel sunnier, warmer, happier. I cannot be sick without them, although I do have to peel them myself now.
Sleeping on the sofa with the tv on
The other treat was camping out on the sofa all day. Lots of pillows and soft warm blankets, and the tv tuned to whatever channel had Sesame Street. I'd burrow under the covers and close my eyes listening to Big Bird and drift off, mixing dreams with the dialogue from the tv, feeling heavy and just barely conscious. In and out, waking up sweaty and cloudy and throwing off a layer of covers and falling back to sleep. Today, I will put in a Pride and Prejudice DVD, but the sleep is the same.
Ok, so this one isn't from when I was a kid, but the feeling of hot water pouring over my clogged head and breathing in the soothing steam is heaven.