Nineteen – When you’re sick, you get to take care of yourself.

When I was a kid, I remember that the thing I loved about being sick was the cherry flavored cough syrup. I could feel like absolute crap but when my mom spooned that sugary Robitussin cough syrup into my mouth, I would feel so wonderful. I’d always want larger doses because it tasted so good. This was not the case for my older sister. In fact, she still dislikes many cherry flavored goods, claiming they taste like sick medicine. I say, “Yum!”

When you are a thirty-year-old sick woman, you are on your own. You don’t get to have your parents baby you. Your roommates often veer away from you and your other friends may drop off an over-the-counter remedy for you, but most people are smart enough to keep their distance so as to avoid getting your nasty germs. Being sick as an adult has no perks. Staying home from school means you still have to leave sub plans and make-up work when you head back. And if you have too many sick days, you don’t get paid.

Getting sick sucks, no matter if you’re seven or almost thirty. I’m just glad we’ve got cherry cough syrup to help us through it. (Note: Nyquil is also a treat. It tastes like black licorice.)

Tata for now.

Rece

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