One of my subcategories of 100 Things About Being Single is the Bad Things. Being sick is possibly in the top three of all bad things about being single. (I’ll get to the other two, so stay tuned.)
I remember when I was a kid and got sick, my mom would make me Jello-water to rehydrate me, give me lukewarm Sprite or 7-Up, read out loud to me, and generally make me feel better. In fact, there was one truly heinous illness (my doctor diagnosed me over the phone as having encephalitis, but who knows what it really was besides terrifying periods of fever and delirium and truly skull-splitting headaches) that I only remember as a blur of being buried in pink blankets (this was back when we still sweated out fevers) and Mom’s voice reading Miss Bianca by Marjory Sharp.
As a single adult, when I’m sick, my cats may curl up with me to keep me company as I lie in misery on the couch. Or they may be running in circles and meowing in complaint that I haven’t scooped the litter today. I don’t have anyone brewing me ginger tea to keep me from barfing, or making chicken soup, or even bringing me medicine. And the only person reading aloud to me is the guy who narrates The Lord of the Rings audiobook.
Of course, maybe married people don’t have caretakers when they’re sick, either. I know my mom just wants to be left alone if she doesn’t feel well, but Dad seems to be very considerate about brewing her tea and feeding himself on freezer pizzas, if nothing else.
Do any married people want to weigh in? Am I missing out on a better sickness experience? Or is everyone alone when they’re sick?