8pm Wednesday night my partner announced he was off to bed. Uh oh, he never goes to bed this early. Somethings wrong? Headache, temperature, bad stomach…yes, he’s sick! My mind races in a whirl of apprehension: I’ll have to cook; wash up; I’ll have to see he is ok; take extra trips upstairs with drinks and snacks; clean up after him. I’ll have to walk the dog…twice! Oh god, what if I crash out and can’t do it all? Or any of it? What if I need him to help me? Worse, what if I get the bug too? Then what if I can’t recover and it makes my fatigue worse? Wow, a storm of thoughts, I know, but when you’re already unwell the last thing you think of is caring for someone else.
I would normally manage this so well but since my every day is like wading through mud; it feels like these next few days are going to be tough. Everything is so heightened when you’re ill. I take a clean bowl, some towels and a glass of water to his bedside. I decide he’s probably going to be in bed all day so I just need to be ready for anything he needs. One thing at a time…and breathe.
Actually, the next day was fine. I scrapped my shower and put off any unnecessary jobs to free up my energy. I only went upstairs a few extra times and Kita was fine with her two very short walks. It’s been new day today. As soon as I woke up he jabbed me in the ribs to annoy me, ha! Back to normal then.
I actually enjoyed being a carer for him. He does so much for me, it felt good to give a little back.