Last Saturday night, I went to a minor medical clinic because the cough/congestion I’d had for about 10 days wasn’t getting better. Plus I had started running a mild fever. I felt like someone had run over me with a truck.
The diagnosis was a really bad sinus infection, nothing like I thought it would be. I had convinced myself that I had pneumonia, so I was all ready to return home with a doctor’s note that read, “Dear husband of the sickest woman I’ve seen in weeks, please understand that your wife is, in fact, sick, so you can stop telling her to take NyQuil and tough it out. Make her some homemade soup, be sure she has plenty of juice to drink, and put her to bed.”
In all honesty, the hubs never told me to “tough it out,” but I’m sure it was implied at some point in the last week and a half. (It’s hard to come by sympathy around here, seeing that the man is in some degree of constant pain because of about five discs in his back that are practically useless.) I can kind of understand.
But the fact is that when I get sick and feel as rotten as I did last weekend, I do want just a touch of sympathy. I want someone to hug me, pat on me a little, and say, “There, there. Bless its bones.” In other words, I want my Mama.
That’s right. I’m a 40-year-old baby, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Oh, I’ve tried to stop feeling that way plenty of times. I’ve told myself that it’s time to put on my big-girl britches and get on with getting well.
But the truth of the matter is that, deep down, I will always want my Mama when I’m sick. She’s the one who made everything better every single time I was sick for 22 years. She always knew what to do and what to say. And she would pat on me a little, say, “Bless its bones,” and put me to bed until I got well.
Now that I’m a grown-up with children of my own, I can’t run home every time I’m sick for some of Dr. Mama’s TLC. We usually talk on the phone and she gives me advice and tells me she hopes I feel better. I tell her that I will be fine. But there’s a part of me that wants her to come and make everything better.
That’s why I was so glad to see her last Monday when she and David convinced me to stay home from work and rest for one more day. She got here about 10:00 and stayed the better part of the day. We visited, she played with Tater Tot and Small Fry, and by the time she left, I didn’t feel so sick anymore.
What can I say? She just makes everything better…whether I’m sick or not.