How to be an Invalid: A Loafer's Guide
After some minor surgery on Friday which was very necessary but completely unpleasant, I find myself confined to the house. Now, there’s a big difference between being sick and being in pain. Being sick is awful. You can’t do anything and life isn’t worth living. But a little (or even a lot) of pain can be excellent for the constitution. On surgeon’s orders I absolutely have to be off work for four days, which takes me to Wednesday, and I can’t drive anywhere. So here’s my six-step guide to really milking it.
1. Watch all the drippy British drama you like - your partner can’t comment. Even though the BBC Jane Eyre makes him want to break the screen, he won’t complain. You’re sick.
2. Do something crafty. I have been industriously covering storage boxes with nice paper so that when we sell the house people will be able to look in my art cupboard without getting brained by rogue pots of paint. This is very messy, which brings me to my next point.
3. Don’t clean. Anything. You are perfectly able to make mess, but being an invalid, shouldn’t have to clean it up. You don’t even need to wash yourself if you don’t want to! Change the pjs every second day, though.
4. In the middle of the night, if you are in pain, you can ask your partner to get up and get the Panadol. You, of course, are able to get it yourself, but it’s warm in there. And you’re sick.
5. Read everything you’ve been wanting to read for months but haven’t had time to get to. Read in your pyjamas and rugby socks, with your feet on the heater, and a plate of something yummy balanced on your chest at all times. Only get up to refresh your teacup. As invalid reading, I can highly recommend State of the Union by Douglas Kennedy, which is occupying me now.
6. Eat enough of whatever’s balanced on your chest to make you feel thoroughly ill. When your partner comes home, raise one wan white hand and say “I couldn’t possibly eat any dinner… I just feel so…” All solicitude, he will make something nice to tempt you, which you can then languidly consume at your leisure. This will make him happy. “And maybe just a few squares of chocolate…”
“Of course,” he’ll say. “You need to build up your strength.”
Three more days of it. Such bliss!
1. Watch all the drippy British drama you like - your partner can’t comment. Even though the BBC Jane Eyre makes him want to break the screen, he won’t complain. You’re sick.
2. Do something crafty. I have been industriously covering storage boxes with nice paper so that when we sell the house people will be able to look in my art cupboard without getting brained by rogue pots of paint. This is very messy, which brings me to my next point.
3. Don’t clean. Anything. You are perfectly able to make mess, but being an invalid, shouldn’t have to clean it up. You don’t even need to wash yourself if you don’t want to! Change the pjs every second day, though.
4. In the middle of the night, if you are in pain, you can ask your partner to get up and get the Panadol. You, of course, are able to get it yourself, but it’s warm in there. And you’re sick.
5. Read everything you’ve been wanting to read for months but haven’t had time to get to. Read in your pyjamas and rugby socks, with your feet on the heater, and a plate of something yummy balanced on your chest at all times. Only get up to refresh your teacup. As invalid reading, I can highly recommend State of the Union by Douglas Kennedy, which is occupying me now.
6. Eat enough of whatever’s balanced on your chest to make you feel thoroughly ill. When your partner comes home, raise one wan white hand and say “I couldn’t possibly eat any dinner… I just feel so…” All solicitude, he will make something nice to tempt you, which you can then languidly consume at your leisure. This will make him happy. “And maybe just a few squares of chocolate…”
“Of course,” he’ll say. “You need to build up your strength.”
Three more days of it. Such bliss!