If you've only read about my current sickness on here and have not had to suffer my constant Twitter updates a la "MAH BRAIN IS COMING OUT MY NOSE!" and "THE BIGGEST LOSER MAKES ME WARM DOWN THERE!", consider yourselves lucky. Twitter is the devil when you're home sick three days in a row with a laptop adhered to your person.
All of us are at various stages of illness. I've got this creeping crud of unknown origins, The Dude has a variation of it which occasionally renders him unable to do anything but complain about how very ill he is (so, status quo), and P has the ever-constant runny nose and cough with the pleasant addition of a funky, diseased big toe. I took her to the doctor yesterday because I had nightmares of it swelling from infection and the poor mite having to live the rest of her life with elephantitis of the toe. "Magic" cream was prescribed, and upon returning her to nursery her teacher went through a litany of reasons P may have gone to the doctor, none of which included a funky toe. I guess it just goes to show that my child is a walking ball of eleventybillion kinds of lurg.
We all deal with sickness differently. This is my way, with my anonymity maintained thanks to a filthy as hell mirror. Yes, I'm clutching a tissue, talking to my Mom on the phone, and taking a photo. Us women are such multi-taskers, eh? Also, helloooooo titties!
This is P's way:
The Dude, bless him, does sound a bit rough, but dude, suck it up. As we were going to bed the other night he said, "Oh no. I feel the shivers coming on." Yawn, but also, HAHAHAHA! He does get the shivers when he has a cold, and let me tell you, it is goddamn hilarious. I should feel pity, but instead I lay in the bed trying not to laugh. The next morning he expressed much relief that the shivers did not materialise this time, as if a biopsy had just come back negative. Dodged a bullet there, phew!
I suppose I should be a sympathetic wife at some stage. The Dude is having his hip replaced next Monday thanks to a bastard inherited degenerative disease and I will be attentive and sympathetic as a good partner would be. This time next Monday his leg will be placed up by his head whilst his hip is replaced - and he will be awake for that lovely demonstration of things-which-should-never-happen-in-a-world. His recuperation period is about two months, so any advice (or good wishes)regarding what will essentially be single parenthood is much appreciated. Let me just remind you, that is single parenthood of a very spirited two year old.
Ever since The Dude's hips started to deteriorate he has struggled with this sort of ailment's association with advanced age. It is hard for a guy in his 30s to have the hips of someone twice his age, particularly as he used to be a very active, sporty person. With that said, by extension I'm a bit sensitive about the matter too, so please, no jokes about age-related issues. It's strange how people wouldn't mock a younger person with rheumatoid arthritis, but yet things like dodgy hips seem to be fair game. I don't imagine most people would be thrilled if they had to have two new hips by the age of 40.
Ok, with the serious stuff out of the way, would you like to see the spoils of his surgery? God bless the NHS, as we get TWO free elevated chairs, a raised toilet seat, and something I can only think to call a grabber. Given the age-related fears he has, a raised toilet seat is not his favourite item. I don't think he was thrilled with me when I left it in the building's lobby with our surname emblazoned on it when it was delivered yesterday. It's heavy, and I'm ill! Cough.
The gang, just chilling by the window on a late winter's day.
Raised toilet seat kicking it gangsta style, sporting this season's hottest "plastic wrap chic" look.
Last night I was frightened by a lone chair sitting in the dark, pondering. I was waiting for a disembodied voice to start shrieking at me, and thought I'd stumbled into an abandoned asylum.
Here is the grabber, utilised to do the housework and to fetch my much-needed tissues.
Because no surgery would be complete without a nifty booklet on what to do and not do...
Butt clenching, ahoy! In case you don't know how to clench your "bottom", here are some arrows to show you how. Also, isn't it "glutes"?
Because you've not been through enough with the hip replacement, they're only going to take it from you in the middle of the night anyway, the bastids.
And finally, don't do this after a hip operation. My personal opinion is that if you're doing this at any point, you've got issues.