As any Mum will know (and this counts if you call yourself Mum, Mom, Mummy, Mother or any other variation), you are just not allowed to be ill. The thought of lying in bed with a thermometer (and Netflix, a cuppa and perhaps a good book) is a little secret dream we have.
Why can’t mums be ill?
If you should be thoughtless and selfish enough to pick up any germs, you just have to “suck it up buttercup” and get on with it. It doesn’t matter how ill you are, how rough you feel or even if every bone in your body is begging to go back to bed, it is just expected that you can deal with this and continue with all your various duties as mum/housewife/employee/employer/wife.
Well, I think we need to start a Revolution.
I have spent the last week “sucking it up” and I am now a very unhappy, slightly neurotic woman who is sat plotting revenge on those around me. I started the week with earache – the type that would have sent most men to their beds for a week but of course, as a woman, I carried on regardless.
A quick visit to the GP to get antibiotics was needed on the Monday afternoon but then everything else went as planned. Homework, lunch boxes, dinner, meetings, breakfasts and the chaos of school mornings & bedtimes with three children who think sleeping through the night is an urban myth.
By Thursday, my ear infection had laughed in the face of the antibiotics and said hello to cellulitis and closed my ear canal. I got the children up, fed and ready for school while silently cursing my husband who had returned from nights and was in bed oblivious to the chaos and my pain.
A quick visit to the GP turned into an unexpected trip to A&E followed by an instant referral to the ENT department of our local hospital (Got to love the NHS – it has its many faults but I didn’t see any of them on Thursday morning). By this time, my temperature had soared, I was beyond “merely glowing” and I was in the most excruciating pain (or perhaps I had developed the pain threshold of a man).
As I sat waiting for the ENT specialist, I started worrying – not about my ear but about getting back in time for the end of the school day.
It turns out we had “missed the boat” for ear drops and a lovely solid hard sponge was inserted into my ear canal (when I say inserted, I mean “pushed, poked and prodded” with me biting my lips to avoid using language that would shock grown men); the sponge was then soaked with steroid and antibiotic drops to make it increase in size and open my ear canal again.
I eventually got home – thankfully in time for the end of the school day – and of course, dinner had to be made, homework had to be completed, forms had to be signed, money put into envelopes, children bathed and the chaos of bedtime was a solo event as my beloved husband had disappeared off to work.
Thursday night was a night of no sleep and, due to being the only adult in the house, no proper pain relief. I take very little medication so co-codamol, tramadol etc absolutely wipe me out. Paracetamol and ibrupofen weren’t even taking the edge off. By Friday morning, I looked in the mirror and saw this messy haired, zombie-eyed female with one side of her face hugely inflated! I am surprised my children hadn’t ran screaming from me in terror (then again, it made me wonder if I need to spend more time on my appearance generally as they never batted an eyelid)!
Friday is a bit of a blur but when hubby eventually woke up, I was able to take some serious pain relief and managed to get a few hours shut-eye.
Friday night was painful but the real pain hit in the next morning when I had to return to the ENT to have the sponge replaced. Ouch ouch and ouch (Insert other four letter words here). I will spare you the details but it involved suction and lots more poking, prodding and profanities.
Hubby was working and so once back from the hospital, I had 6 hours of my gorgeous three children – all of whom are tired after their first week back at school, anxious as their routines change, worried about the homework they have to complete and also at that lovely age where they want to play with what their sibling is using! The day didn’t end early as my children were still bouncing off the walls at 12.30am (and yes, hubby was asleep).
So today, as I am facing another day of hubby working – so no pain relief; a day of three children who are overtired and almost as grumpy as me – so no quiet downtime and I am feeling very very very sorry for myself, I want to start The Mums’ Revolution.
When we get ill, let’s go to our beds, let’s talk in “sick voices”, let’s have our meals made for us, let’s have our children looked after, let’s have others do homework battles with our children.
I want the world to revolve around me for just one day. What about you? Who’s up for joining The Mums’ Revolution?
0 thoughts on “Why can’t Mums be ill.”
But who would do the looking after ??
That’s the problem, isn’t it – we need to find some back up people, probably female back up people