A moment arrived in the bath last night when my head cleared. I wasn't better, but I could think again. I could imagine the possibility of one sentence logically following on from another one. Considerable improvement, my ruder readers cry, in the style of the 'Will I be able to play the piano after the operation, doctor', joke.
As the evening passed I began to feel well and although, one day on, I am still coughing and my temperature guage is a bit wonky, I have provided my family with a cooked meal, changed a bed and am even now contemplating the ironing basket.
I am not particularly sexist, in fact marginally less so than most men, but I have to say that when you are male, and ill, there is no acceptable way of behaving. If you stay in bed you are seen as a complete waster who can't cope with the slightest hint of pain. If you soldier on you are just unable to admit defeat and typically male. If you give voice to your feelings, as often encouraged to, and explain how ill you are, you are told, mainly by looks and gestures, that it's nothing compared to a monthly period pain and childbirth and you should stop moaning. If you keep quiet then the looks and gestures suggest, ' How can I know how to help you unless you tell me what's wrong.' Mates. You gonna lose this one. You gonna lose it all your life so submit to it. Do what the hell you want and take the flack. If you get tea in bed out of it you did well.
Only women know the correct way to behave in the face of illness.
Honourable mentions in the 'comforting me when I was ill' stakes go to:
Underworld. Their albums are very long and don't require too many visits to the CD player.
The Ladykillers. A better Coen Brothers movie than anyone said. You have to remember that what they do is make cartoons with real actors.
Soft choice mansize tissues.
Hot baths.
Lemsip Max strength capsules. The SAS of cold remedies.
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