I’m fine…..d

I know, I know, I can hear you screaming ‘where are you Honest K?! Where are youuu?!’.

I’m here baby, I’m right here. I have missed you too.

A week or so ago I was stuck down in the ‘prime of my lime’.

 

I’m 100% blaming this disease on my father. He had been ill the week before, hocking up a lung, blocked up, tired, chesty, the whole shebang. Thank for passing it on father, just wonderful. In horror I watched as he returned home early from work with full blown man flu, I warned him not to give my child his disease as I had a night out the following weekend and mummaaay WAS going out, ill child or not.

Karma didn’t like my sentiment, so that bitch passed the disease straight on to me.

Excellent.

I was stuck down on Thursday evening, 9 days before my planned night out. Got the auld scratchy throat business and a general feeling of being knackered, nothing new there then. Trying my best to keep a positive mental attitude, I repeatedly told myself all I needed was a good nights sleep, it’s just a dry throat, it will be gone in the morning.

The only thing gone in the morning was my voice, damn it! But, nope, I’m not about to be ill,ain’t no one got the time for that. So I made my way to work, feeling surprisingly fine…until 1pm hit. My voice had all but backed her bags and ran off, my throat was dry, hoarse and killing me. It got that horrible sore way that drinking anything is sheer heaven. At 3pm I called it quits and left work early…well, that’s not technically true, who stays until finishing time at work on a Friday?! So I left pretty much my usual half ass, skivers time and went to pick up devil child.

With every sip of the tea my mother made me I could feel myself getting more and more ill. Jess was doing my tits in, nothing new, she was so loud and  full of energy, it was all too much for my poor head. Trying to make conversation rattled my brain, and that’s when I knew, I knew I had the ‘disease’.

The next day, 7 days before party day, I died. Look, I don’t want to be dramatic and all that, but I called the lawyer, created a will, and then I just died. Every single cell in my body hurt, moving was a mission, so I didn’t. I lay in my bed the whole day, trying to provide myself with some tiny bit of comfort during this hellish time. The slightest touch to my skin hurt, my bones ached, my head exploded, my nose was red raw from snotter wiping, my throat was as dry as the Sahara – there is going to be some smart ass that informs me the Sahara desert isn’t actually all that dry? Isn’t there Dave? No the day pal – I was hot, I was cold, I was tired, I was emotional, I had weird ass anxiety about everything and anything, I was googling ‘when will it end?! I have a night out in 7 days?!’ – kidding, but I did Google is this the flu or a cold, why? I dunno, maybe so I could have the justification to tell you all I’m dying, as Google told me I had three days left to live that I had the flu.

Oh my days, it was awful. But hold on to your pants, it gets worse. David, my man, my rock, my support, my care giver, well, he cani see shite but want a bit! He was dying also! On the Friday night he moaned his throat was sore, and like a wise oracle, I told him that it was the beginning of the end, he had better batten down the hatches and prepare himself for a world of torment coming his way. Sure enough, he was dying the next day, not dead, just yet, he was a day behind me after all, but on his was to the cemetery all the same. He had enough energy to make us cups of tea and fetch painkillers, and just energy to throw food in  devil child’s direction.

Oh yes, that’s right! Jess was with us. It’s bad enough being ill and a parent but even worse when both parents are ill and still need to parent! As her legal guardians lay dying in their death bed, Jess wandered around the bedrooms, playing with – well, I don’t actually know nor did I care at the time. She did pretend to be a doctor at one point, dishing our medicine and looking in out ears with the looking in the ears thing the doctors have. Either I really didn’t care or Jess was very well behaved because I have nothing to report on her antics. there was no crayons on the wall, no one fell down the stairs, no one fell out a window, nothing.

The faces of the diseased

Oh yeah, I remember now why she was so well behaved, there was a healthy supply of chocolate. I had asked David to bring me in a box of Roses the night before. Random, but I wanted them. I mind I was feeding Jess chocolate to keep her quite while I died. Clearly it worked. Finally Jess napped and so did her deceased parents. A sure fire test to determine whether or not you are ill is to have a nap. If you are ill, you will find you are freezing yet wrapped up in thick pjs, a duvet, a house coat (dressing gown), thick socks and several throws. That’s your first ill clue. The next is, when waking from a nap you feel like an elephant has been using your body as a mattress, everything hurts, you feel like utter shit and you begin to cry. I always cry when I’m ill, it’s 100% a ‘help me, I’m so ill, wahhhhh, I feel so sorry for myself’ kind cry. Then you know you got the ills.

We lay on our death bed all weekend, oh I mean in our coffin all weekend. On the Sunday I think we eventually got showered and dressed, well changed our pjs at least. The only food we ate either came from Cadburys or the just eat app. I asked my sister in law to drop milk at our door if she was passing, tea was our medicine, our peace keeper, there was no way we could go without.

Monday: 6 days before the night of nights, Dave and I woke from our death beds still under the shadow of the disease. At this point I painted a black cross on our front door, I warned people not to come near us for fear of infection. I called in sick to work as did David. We kept devil child by ourside as neither one of us could be arsed taking her to the grandparents, even though we would have loved a day to die in peace. Fueled by mum guilt, I washed and dressed both Jessica and myself. I needed to get her out the house, even just for a minute, we had been house bound all weekend. Terrible guilt and shame resided along side the Grim Reaper, I couldn’t possibly keep Jess house bound for another day! Plus we had ran out of painkillers. Plus plus, Jess wasn’t looking her best either and there was no, zero, zilchio way either of us sick parents could manage to deal with an ill child while we were griped tightly by the disease with no pain killers for anyone.

So I sneezed my way to the bathroom and tried to think of the best way I could wash two burds with one stone. Jess and I shared a bath, I was too tired to stand in the shower, I thought the hot water might ease my aching muscles and joint.

*Raises own eyebrow at self and shakes head.

Did you know that an ill toddler is still an energetic toddler? Did you know that teenie tiny little splashes of water can hurt your face when you are ill? Under no circumstances, when ill, have a bath with a toddler! I begged and pleaded with her not to splash, not to jump, not to dive bomb or whatever the hell it is that she does – she stands and then just crumbles, forcing you to act quickly or entertain the idea of a trip to A&E with a toddler missing half a skull. Jess feeds off others pain, the more I asked her to stop splashing the more she grinned and lightly tapped the water…then she lightly tapped it closer and closer to my face. Then she just full on splashed, coz fuck what mummay says, bath time is Jess time. And Jess gotta splash.

Counting down from 10 and then 20 and the 100, I got out the bath, dressed and grabbed splash child, then proceeded to infect everyone at our local supermarket with our disease. It’s horrible being outside when you’re ill, ears all blocked, cani hear what people are saying, catching a glimpse of yourself in the freezer window and looking like death and Rudolph’s love child. Awful. But, at least Jess was out the house, running an absolute riot in the shop. I grab all the medication that I’m legally allowed to buy, fruit, snacks and the child, paid for my goods and quickly got back to the snotter haven of my house.

It was this day that David gave me a new title, one that equally offends and thrills me, the title of ‘Shop Brand Kirsty’. Now, I’m not saying I’m cheap or anything, but I got a whole baskets worth of food and drugs for £25 – which at our local Tesco is akin to finding diamonds when searching for precious gems in your back garden. I can’t help if I like to get more bang for my buck meanwhile David throws money out the window. – literally!  I have lost count of how many times I have returned home from work to find the house like a bloody sauna with no occupants.

So I get home from the shop with a bag filled with goodies and drugs, I tip out the contents and demand David make me a cup of tea for all my efforts. Dave proceeds to make the tea and inspect my shopping items. The cheeky fucker bugger had the audacity to ask if the cold and flu medication was on sale, I asked why and he replied ‘no reason…’ but there is a reason, isn’t there? I bought Beechams, so what?! We all know Lemsip is where it’s at….but Beechams was 50p cheaper. He should think himself lucky I didn’t buy the store brand cold and flu relief, they aw do the same thing, trust me, I’m a scientist….they don’t, but gies peace man, 50p is 50p! I may have also bought him one of the expensive ready meals he likes, chicken and choirzo paella…which might have been reduced heh heh. Hey, better the money in my pocket that theirs, amma right? Better you keep your face shut or you’ll no get any medicine, amma right? Pfft, this coming from the guy that bought store brand aloe vera tissues – may as well have blown my nose with sand paper, it would have been kinder! Don’t skimp out on tissues! And so what if I bought ‘bunnies’ instead of Pom Bears,they are the same thing man! And half the price!

How rude!

Luckily for David I didn’t have the energy to strangle him with my discount Converse laces, instead I took note in my little mental book of ‘that will come back and bite you in the arse’.

Tuesday: 5 days before ‘mummay is going out and on the wine’ night. Guess who woke up grumpy, hot and moody? Not me, well, yes me too, but devil child. She was not her usual happy ‘GOOOOOD morning mummay!’ ‘GOOOOOOD morning dadday!’ ‘ GOOOD morning! Good morning! Morning!!’ – God, I hate morning people! She was more of a whiny, clingy, high maintenance, royal pain in the hoop.

When you are feeling ill, but your mum is ill too and all you want is a hug, but not a hug, and toast, and water, and Peppa Pig and a hug, no, I said no hugs! Blanket please.

Being the ultimate skiver and still not feeling top notch I quickly drafted an email to work detailing that I wouldn’t be making it in and that my darling child had taken ill….what was actually going through my head was, that if I don’t nurture this sick child then there is a high possibility that I will not be going out this weekend. Sorry to burst the ‘perfect parent’ bubble! There are many things I would rather do that nurse an ill toddler, one of which is burning my eyes with vinegar, especially when I, myself, do not feel great. Poor Dave didn’t have a choice in the matter, he needed to take his phlegm filled lungs and red eyes back to work. It was just Jess and I, until the death!

Luckily for me she seemed to pick up during the day, which had me thinking that we was just being a toddler and wasn’t actually ill – it’s hard to tell the difference! But just to be on the safe side I decided it best I take the week off work to make sure she was in absolute great health so I could do out on the Saturday and in no discomfort what so ever. Me on the other hand? I put my disease to the side and focused on the job at hand: Operation bitches be going out this weekend!

By the Thursday I did start to feel much better. It was a very bizarre disease, up one day and dying the next. I made sure I got plenty of rest, Jess and I watched Disneys and nipped out for lunch on one or two occasions, you need to cheer yourself up some how eh?!

Fish and chips, oh and beans at the request of my buddy.

More fish and chips, hey! Don’t judge, us ill ladies gotta do what ya gotta do!

Suffice to say, mummay and dadday went on their night out! Result!! I may have been a little deaf in the auld ears as all the mucus and gunk took up residence in my sinuses, but I made it. And the music was pretty loud anyway…we went to see Vitalic in a very special venue, the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. A rave in a museum. Say what?!

Having a rave in one of Scotland’s most iconic buildings, as you do.

We made it! Through the snot, the phlegm, the coughing, the sneezing, the aching, the crying (from Jess and myself) and the sheer exhaustion, we made it.In fact I would say that the 3 days we spent as a family, before David rudely left us for work, were, weirdly, 3 of the best days we have spent together. What’s not to love about being in bed all day while napping and eating chocolate…and maybe coughing up a spleen in the process?!

What doesn’t break you makes you stronger eh?…I’m still coughing to clear my throat two weeks later. Lovely.