Role Reversal

My head and chest cold turned into a full-blown flu last night. My GF Jo and her beau were cooking out and invited me over to join them. I bade The D farewell and he told me he was going to take a shower. He was doing better so I decided that he probably wouldn't fall. Besides, I had cabin fever.

Headed over to JoJo's and we had so much fun just hanging out - laughed our heads off, like usual. Then we settled in to watch Little Miss Sunshine and I was out like a light. At some point I woke up and went to the bathroom, and that's when it hit. Huge waves of nausea. Followed by copious quantities of barf. Over and over and over again. She came running and held my hair back (definition of a true friend). Got a wet cloth and a towel while I drove the porcelain bus. She got a waste can and took me to her guest room, where about two minutes later, it started up again. Oh My God. I was pitiful. I hate to throw up. In between the retching, we wondered how anyone could be bulimic. She sweetly sat on the side of the bed and rubbed my back while I cried. I told her that whenever I'm sick, I want my mama. And I boo-hooed knowing I couldn't have her. I was pitiful. She was a good substitute for my mama. She is such a nurturer.

Finally things stabilized and Jo brought me some alka-seltzer and a glass of water and tucked me in. I fell asleep, with intermittant coughing spells. Bad ones. At some point, I woke up and the barfing began again. Until finally there was nothing left. I started worrying about The D. What if he'd fallen in the shower? But I was too weak to drive home and besides, I didn't want to wake J up at four in the morning.

Finally, daylight broke and I gingerly got out of bed. By then, fever and chills and body aches had set in. I swear, I am almost never sick, but when I am, it's awful. I think the last time I've been sick was about six years ago with a summer flu.

Jo heard me stirring around and when I got my sea legs, I bade her farewell, with a plastic bag in hand for the drive home.

When I got home around 7:00, The D was asleep in his bedroom and not unconscious on the bathroom floor. Huge relief. I opened the fridge to get a diet coke, and there, like a mirage, was a big bowl of sugar-free strawberry jello. I'd made it for Daddy the other day. And I remembered The D's cough syrup with codeine. I headed to the sofa in Daddy's living room - it faces east and gets lots of light. I turned on the tv to wait for CBS Sunday Morning to come on, and piled up under a blanket and ate my jello and drank my coke.

Of course, I fell asleep, and when The D appeared, I told him I was sick. I had to say it three times between his hearing and my froggy voice. He said I had what he'd had. He was remarkable spry. And sweet. So he sat in his recliner and read the paper while I dozed in and out. When I woke up, Wild Kingdom was on. Long time since I've seen it. Of course, it had the usual stuff. Copulating animals and sickening scenes of predators ripping the flesh off their prey. I said "Yuck" and The D said "That's how animals do." He's a regular Marlin Perkins.

I asked Marlin to get me some Jello, and the third time he understood me, and jumped right up and fixed me a bowl. How sweet is that?

He told me his pill box was empty, so I had to get right on it since he hadn't had his morning meds. Luckily I had enough of everything to do two weeks' worth of pill boxes. I realized that I distributed 210 pills (15/day times 14 days). Damn. I have to break one of them in half, and alternate doses on another one - two pills every night but only one on Sundays and Thursdays. So I have to focus when I do it.

Deb brought some lunch, but I couldn't eat it. It was chicken pasta from Macaroni Grill. It'll be great tomorrow, I'm sure. Daddy didn't like it, but he ate it anyway. Deb brought me some chicken noodle soup with crackers. Perfect.

I told her about the 210 pills. I showed her my elaborate Excel spreadsheet and told her if something happened to me, she needed to know how to do the pills. She didn't seem concerned.

She walked around the house with a napkin over her face and never came within six feet of me. Except when she brought the soup. She cleaned up the kitchen. What a sweet sister. She told me about her plan to sue the gastroenterology group which had treated my mother a year ago Thanksgiving when her GI problems started up. Her doc had overdosed a few months months later. That what's the nurses said, and they know. And tell. I made the mistake of asking one of Mother's other doctors about it, and he acted like he'd heard nothing of the kind. I remembered later that he'd been in and out of rehab more than once. I was a little embarrassed, but probably not as embarrassed as he was. Maybe that's why he doesn't like me.

Deb was talking about calling one of the personal injury attorneys who advertises on TV. The "Heavy Hitter." I told her to knock herself out. I don't have time for a lawsuit. But she should split the proceeds with me.

Ok, I've been upright for too long - feeling very weak. Gonna hit the sofa again. I can't believe it's only 2:30. It feels like 10:00. Gloomy day with major storm on the way.

As for the title of this post, I guess for today, I'm the Daughddler and Daddy's my Daddy. And that's very consoling...