Sick days

No one likes being sick.
That dizzy, light-headed, blocked, choked up feeling, with heavy limbs and weary eyes, doubled over and hobbling to the bathroom when nature calls.  Sometimes it calls abruptly.  It's not much fun when you're alone and battling the symptoms with hot drinks and lemsip.
I don't like being sick but it did bring with it some advantages.  When I was a little mite things were different. Coming from a large family, it was something of a novelty to be home alone with my parents.  Of course, there were times when I had had appointments and half-days at school but these were full days at home without my siblings.  There were some perks being ill in the past; tea and toast in bed among others.

Just what went on in the outside world during the hours of 09:00-15:00 when we children would normally be buried in our schoolbooks.

Tea and toast in bed and a string of TV programmes unavailable to the regular school goer.

I remember my mother would step into the darkened room and ask if I wanted to eat anything.  I might sleep for a while depending on the severity of my symptoms.  My mother would take the clock from her bedroom and place it on the chest of drawers.  There was no clock in my bedroom.  I could now monitor the time I spent in bed.  I might sleep or doze, waiting until midday before I'd brave the kitchen.  Alternatively, I might open the curtains of my room and read, occasionally glancing at the farm across the road.

In my mind I would tell myself that I would use this unprecedented free-time wisely.  There were drawings to be drawn and pictures to be coloured, however, this plans almost always awry.  A weak mind and body hindered my ambitions.

One of the most interesting things about sick days was the TV schedule.
There were several shows I enjoyed but now I cannot remember their names; claymation and puppetry shows.  Often these had animals.  Some of these shows targeted a younger audience but at this time I was free to indulge, away from the scrutiny and jibes of my siblings.
One channel had an afternoon of classic delights, Tintin and Adam West's Batman among others.  It was riveting stuff.  Once the worst of my illness was behind me I was able to rest and enjoy the shows beaming from the box.

It can be hard to return to the real world after a week or more of rest and nursing.  The comforts of home are deeply embedded as the routines of last week have been torn asunder.  But there are people and stories to catch-up with.  If I were feeling particularly studious, or if I wanted to appear so I'd ask my brother or sister to pick up homework.  There was never any danger of me falling far behind in academic work.  However, gossip and sport were another question.