Scrambled Eggs for the Soul

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Last week, I had a mildly irritated throat. Later in the week, it turned into a major sore throat. As usual, I ignored my body’s request to skip the gym, sleep more, and take it easy in general.

At 3am this morning, as I felt my nose start to run onto my pillow, my body said, “Welcome to your nasty cold, Jean!” I got up to blow my nose. My body then said, “I told you so!” I really hate it when my body’s right.

I don’t generally consider myself to be a “baby” when I’m sick. After going through two c-sections and then having to care for the resulting baby and opting not to take the post-surgery pain killers, I felt I was pretty rugged. After all, I am Polish; you have to be tough to endure polka music!

Okay, I’ll be honest with you. You know what brings out the baby in me? A paper cut. I got one yesterday when I opened an envelope; it sliced me underneath my right thumb. Those things are so small, yet so painful, and just really annoying in general!

Anyway, I decided to listen to my body today for once. No gym. No vacuuming. No sitting in a cold hockey rink for Nate’s game. Today was all about doing nothing and resting on the couch.

I hate being sick. But, sometimes, I guess it’s just Nature’s way of telling you need, which is definitely different from want when you’re in a funk, to watch back-to-back episodes of Law & Order, read your unread back issues of “In Style,” and take care of yourself for once and not everyone else. And, it is funny how much less guilty I feel watching back-to-back episodes of Law & Order when my nose is running in between sneezes!

I don’t get sick a lot, just usually bronchitis every now and then. I’ve only ever broken my toe -- sock feet, metal spiral stair case, quick sprint down the stairs with a birthday card I just made, and late for my Dad’s birthday party. Yes, it was almost like running with scissors! And fortunately, my surgeries are limited to one tonsillectomy, the aformentioned two c-sections, and one breast biopsy. I think the tonsillectomy was my most painful, yet the best one of all.

I was old when I had them removed, 25 years old to be exact. After three cases of strep throat, it was decided that it was time to remove my golf-ball sized tonsils. I was living at home at the time, and my Mom, being a nurse immediately put the word out for a good ENT doctor near home.

After seeing him, I was scheduled for surgery at Framingham Union Hospital where my Mom had once worked. She contacted all her old friends there and made sure I would be on their floor and under their care.

I remember going into the operating room, and having the anesthesiologist asking me to count backwards. Can someone tell me why they do that? You never make it past 97. Is it so if you’re still conscious saying “25, 24, 23,” then they know they didn’t give you enough juice?!

Of course, when I woke up, I had a horrible, horrible sore throat and wondered, “Perhaps the strep throat three times a year was the better deal.” Of course, all my Mom’s friends, fellow nurses, came into visit me the whole time I was there.

They’d say, “Oh, when your Mom worked here, we heard all about you. So, how are you doing?” I felt like I had just been asked by a waitress “How is everything?” when my mouth was full of food! It was hard, but I eked out a “Fine, thank you.”

When I finally got home from the hospital, my Mom tucked me into bed and brought me everything she thought I needed. And, when she left for work at 6am the next morning, she brought me scrambled eggs and told me to stay in bed. My Mom always made scrambled eggs when I was sick. Scrambled eggs were Tylenol, Band-Aids, and Love all served on one plate.

(I also always got scrambled eggs before weekend track meets in high school, because it was the only thing I could eat when I was nervous. Before she left for work, it was “Drink a glass of milk,” because she said I shouldn’t do anything on an empty stomach. And, if she wasn’t working, she would make me scrambled eggs.)

I ventured up out of my tonsillectomy sick bed for a shower after I ate my scrambled eggs. I knew when I started to sway back and forth under the warm water that it was a mistake. I crawled back into bed, hoping my Mom wouldn’t notice; however, nurses, like crime scene investigators, notice a lot more than most people. When she came home, she noticed the absence of bedhead and immediately chastised me for getting up.

After the scolding, I promised I wouldn’t attempt a shower again. When she seemed satisfied that I would comply, she then asked, “Want some scrambled eggs?” I guess the best thing about being sick at any age is having someone who loves you caring for you.

Today, Iz climbed onto the couch with her dessert, a Lindt truffle, and two cherry Kisses. She saw me, looked down at her treats, picked up a kiss, stretched out her hand to me, and asked, “Mommy, do you want this? I thanked her for her kiss, and then I kissed her back by telling her to enjoy her treat.

She seemed happy to have made a genuine offer but just as happy to have it back for consumption. She then said, “Mommy, after I finish this, I will massage your neck, okay?” Whatever Iz does when she grows up, I’m sure it will require a fair amount of compassion. She has a lot to give, and I hope she gets to put it all to good use.

Just then, Nathan rounded the corner, holding Plume the kitten. Unfortunately, Monty, who felt his presence was all that was needed during domestic animal visiting hours, barked loudly. Plume jumped out of Nathan’s hands, and she ran back upstairs. Nathan looked at me with a “Sorry, Mom” expression. I thanked him for the attempted feline Hallmark.

I think that no matter what your relationship, there’s nothing like having your Mom nearby in times of discomfort and distress. But, then again, if you’re fortunate, you will always have the people and the things around you that provide comfort and love. After being treated with kisses, a massage, a kitten and four restful hours on the couch, I got up and made myself some scrambled eggs. ♥