Last night was the first night in a week where I’d gone to bed and actually slept the whole night through. Where I didn’t take up every hour or so with the most incredible and insatiable thirst that I’d ever had.
This started last week along with the aches, pains, pounding headache and blocked up nose. I left to sleep upstairs in O’s room (he’s away at school) and found myself in the bathroom cupping my hands, as I did when I was a child, in order to catch the water falling from the tap. I drank so much but it did nothing. I could walk the 2 flights of stairs down to the kitchen to get a glass, which would have made life so much simpler, as that would have woken the dog and once the dog is awake the whole house is awake and I really didn’t want that at 3am.
I literally cannot remember the last time or even if there was one when I took a whole week out of life to be ill. I’ve been ill yes, but nothing like this where the house could have actually been turning down around me and I actually would not have cared.
£5’s could have been left on the floor, Tom Hardy could have knocked at the door and yet I would not have so much have lifted my head to have a look. F had been ill too and she had complained of being thirsty so I think we must have shared the same virus. (Thanks F, Mummy tough you well with the old sharing malarky didn’t she?)
The boys were amazing as they let me sleep. They didn’t bother me or try to wake me up as I lay there comatose on the sofa in between bouts of uncontrollable shivering and sweating. H sorted F out for milk when she demanded it and T helped with keeping the snacks flowing on Friday afternoon when Hubbie had to leave us to go and pick up O from school.
We spent the week cocooned together in the sitting room watching history documentaries (Back Further in Time – 1900’s was fabulous. The boys were astounded/disgusted by the amount of meant middle class Edwardian’s ate) we watched the full series of the edible gardener – the boys liked her dog, I liked her dress sense and they both fell in love with the very whimsical program Father Brown to which H spent quite a lot of time trying to work out who the murderer was. (It’s set in the 1950’s and is normally shown in the afternoons. Dr Who is way more violent)
Hubby worked from home and cooked, cleaned and did the washing. He walked the dog, did the shopping all in between taking F to nursery and needing everyone to be quiet as he was on a call.
Sometimes you really do just need to be ill. You need to let your body fight the baddies and help you to get better. To be fair though I really wasn’t fit for anything and wouldn’t have been at work had I had a paid job. The lovely thing for us being home ed is that we could just slow down for the week as we work all year round taking a week out where we watch documentaries, they tidy their bedrooms (huge job, really not as simple as it seems) find books on their shelf that they found they wanted to read and play games with each other.
We had O home for the weekend which was lovely but I was still in no fit state for us to go out and do something so Hubbie took them all shopping and I had an hour or so in the house on my own – alone – which was luxuriously lovely despite the fact that I was in and out of sleep.
O has gone back (last night) and I slept through last night. One is sad the other is a relief. Both H and T were ready to get back to the chalkface but I wasn’t quite well enough to carry on our normal Monday morning timetable; Literacy, tennis, science class, board game club and swimming lesson, so we had a morning of maths instead. They did very well and as they were still very much engaged we carried on doing more work than I would have probably expected them to.
My nose is still running and I’m not quite ready to be Lemsip free but things are definitely on the up.
I hope that none of you have this awful virus as I know it’s doing the rounds. It’s virulent, nasty and very successful in taking away large chunks of your life. You desperately want to go to sleep and wake up feeling better but it just doesn’t happen.
It’s 6pm and although I’ve not sat on the sofa all day I am really tired. I can’t wait till the children go to bed and I can wrap up in a blanket and snooze my way through whatever-it-is-that-Hubbie-is-watching…