I had a sick day yesterday. Aside from my physical problems, I also have guilt associations with sick days. Am I really sick? Or am I just slacking off? We never were allowed to stay home from school unless we were demonstrably sick. The definition of sick is pretty much "throwing up." Anything that merits a trip to the hospital would be acceptable, too. As a result, anything less than throwing up is not sick to me. If I'm not hurling, I can go to work. Otherwise, I'm just playing hooky. That's not really true, and it defies the point of sick days. They're not for you, they're for your coworkers. Keep your germs at home. In general, I don't do that. I bring them in with me, and I thoughtlessly throw them around the office. I'd feel bad, except for the fact that if someone else hadn't already done the same thing, I wouldn't be sick right now.
But yesterday morning, around 6:30 or so, I was the definition of sick. Such are the wonders of technology that I was able to send an email to my boss telling him that I was too busy ralphing to come to work, and I didn't even have to leave my bed to do it. I threw up a little more, then went downstairs to be sick properly: on the couch, watching TV, with a vomit bowl next to me.
Except...there's really no point in having a vomit bowl, because I have to empty it myself. So I used it, then immediately got up and emptied the contents into the toilet. It seems like I could cut out the middleman here. A vomit bowl is only useful if you have a nice mommy to take care of you. I could have had Josh do it for me, but I wasn't that sick. I will let you know if I am ever that sick.
I had a nap on the futon while Ren & Stimpy got up to their usual shenanigans. I have mixed feelings about this show. Josh loves it, but he loves a lot of strange things. According to him, it was Nickelodeon's peak. At that point, they were still unknown enough that the programming could be just a bit subversive. That's a good description of Ren & Stimpy. Artistically, it's quite good. The visual style is interesting, and the use of sound effects and background music, though obviously derivative of Looney Tunes, is excellent. And it's funny, too. But when I watch it, I have this nagging, but firm, feeling that it is not appropriate for children. I can't put my finger on anything that is actually "bad." There is no cursing or sex. There is a fair amount of toilet humor, which you could say was distasteful, but inappropriate? I dunno. I'll let you know if I ever figure that one out, too.
I woke up from my nap feeling a lot better. Not like a million bucks, but probably at least ten. Well enough to try and drink some Sprite. If that went well, maybe I could try for some chicken soup. Not that I had any chicken soup in the house. I could send Josh to the store for the condensed stuff, but the thought of eating it sort of turned my already tender tummy. What I needed was a huge supply of individually-frozen portions of homemade soup. I'll just go back and time and do that, I guess.
Feeling better made me feel worse, at least as far as my sick day guilt. I had to keep reminding myself that I had been legitimately sick that morning. Really, I had been, and I have the vomit bowl to prove it. I decided that no matter how much better I was feeling that night, I would not leave the house. Legitimately sick people do not leave the house.
At 3 o'clock on the dot, the band van pulled into our driveway. At 3:04, it left again, with Josh inside. I guess in terms of sick days, this one was at least well-timed. It gave me a few more hours with him. A couple of them had been napping, and a couple more had been throwing up or wondering whether I was about to throw up. I wouldn't exactly call it quality time, but it was at least time, and that's more than I'll have with him for weeks.
This morning, I woke up feeling better, but somehow also worse.