Bluergh...

I’m ill. Writing this from my sickbed, so expect a load of old waffle in today’s post. Although I’m secretly hoping to bang out a masterpiece, didn’t all the great writers write their best stuff when delirious with fever and succumbing to romantic diseases?

Anyway, I don’t really feel up to much today. Alas, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not one of those great writers who can write amazing things whilst having a fever, my brain is like mashed potato and I’ve got the aches, plus I keep on being side tracked by This Morning and losing my train of thought. This is why I usually write in the kitchen in silence. I’m far too easily distracted.

Why does illness always comes at the worst possible time? The man is off work on his last days of holiday, we were going to do some fun stuff with the kids. Instead I’m sitting in bed, stewing in my own filth, battling fever, while the man gets on with everyday stuff like the washing and keeping the kids entertained. But at least he’s home to look after me and I can text him every time I want something, the modern version of the sick bell.

I’d like to say I’m a great patient, one of these people who can suffer in silence, and get on with it while secretly feeling at deaths door. But if I’m ill everyone’s going to know about it. I’ll stay on my feet martyring myself til the last possible second, then (when possible) take myself to bed moaning and groaning, and repeatedly apologising for being ill.

I hate being ill. You get to do really fun stuff, staying in bed, watching rubbish telly and eating ice cream (for the sore throat of course) but you can’t really enjoy it like you can when you’re well. Yesterday I actually watched Antiques Roadshow and it was pretty good. Why don’t we do this stuff when we’re well and can appreciate it?

Being ill makes me realise that I never really appreciate being well. I always tell myself I’ll be a lot more mindful of being well once I’m better. But as soon as I’m well again I just get on with my life and forget to appreciate not having a headache, being able to swallow without difficulty, not having fire burning in my ears or aching muscles and feeling like my skin is too tight. It’s always the way that we never notice the good things.

Thankfully I’m not ill often, but when I am I try to make the most of it and do the things that I never do when I’m well. Sitting in bed slothlike and stinking (I’m sure I’d feel so much better, or at least wouldn’t keep making myself feel sick with my own smell, if I had a shower, but I don’t think I could stand up that long), drinking tea with sugar in it and watching Jeremy Kyle, one of the best ways to make you count your blessings. It really makes you grateful for your own boring life, not having to worry about being pregnant with triplets by 3 different men, or finding out your husband was sleeping with his Gran.

Being ill forces you to check out of your normal life and view it from the outside looking in. It’s a rare and very valuable time when you simply have to sit still and do nothing. Sickness is horrible but I’m lucky that it doesn’t happen often so try to really take stock and appreciate how lucky I am. It always follows that a period of hardship can help you appreciate the good things.

So I’m really looking forward to being better when I will really appreciate feeling good in myself, in the meantime I’m making the most of Jeremy Kyle and the ice cream. Come on, it’d be rude not to.