Where Logic Meets Love

I Really Hate Mono

Saturday, May 1, 2010

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I Really Hate Mono | Faith Permeating Life
It's been over a month now since I was sort-of-but-not-exactly diagnosed with mono, and while I'm well past the swollen glands and fever stage, I'm definitely not back to normal yet. As friends who had had mono helpfully commented when I first learned I had it, "Oh man, it took me months and months to get my energy back!"

My routine has been somewhat like this the past few weeks: Spend the weekend lying around like a useless lump, then feel great (relatively speaking) on Monday, then wear down over the course of the week until by Friday my legs are moving by sheer willpower.

I haven't volunteered at the library for a month now, and I haven't told them why (I looked for an e-mail address for the volunteer coordinator but couldn't find one, and my experience is that the phone number goes to the circulation desk, with people who don't care about the volunteers at all). I have every intention of going over there today, if for no other reason than to pick up a documentary I reserved, but right now I don't feel like moving. The thought of getting up to shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast just makes me feel exhausted. So I lie here with my laptop and feel useless.

Back when I actually looked like I was really sick (I came down with a bad cold about a week and a half after going to the doctor about mono), Mike and I had to have a discussion about taking care of me when I am sick. His idea of taking care of me was to ask, "You need anything?" and then sit down at his computer with his back to me and put his headphones on to watch a movie for two hours. So if I needed, say, more water, my choices were to yell at him and make him pause his movie, take off his headphones, get up and refill my water; get up myself and get more water; or just lie there and not drink any more water. Generally I chose the last option, but occasionally I would get things for myself. After all, when he was gone all day at work, those were my only options anyway. So even though I knew that I was supposed to be drinking lots of water and taking ibuprofen and putting compresses on my lymph node and all this stuff, I did a pretty crap job of taking care of myself because I was too freaking exhausted to do it, and I needed someone to make me drink water and do all this other stuff.

I explained to Mike that I am really bad at asking people to do things for me when I am sick. This is especially true when I have reverse hypochondria about the whole thing and am paranoid that they think I'm faking it and trying to take advantage of them. He got slightly better about bringing me water and asking if I wanted tea and stuff like that. And then I started going back to work and was basically assumed to be normal again.

The problem is that it's not just about asking him to do things directly related to my being sick, like bringing me medicine and tea when I am lying in bed. It's things like -- the dishes pile up in the sink, the paper piles up on the table, and so on, and who am I to lie on the couch and order him to clean up his messes?

So I end up just feeling the oppressing weight of clutter that happens when things start to get out of control, or exhausting myself by doing it myself. He's been cooking dinner practically every night (as well as washing the dishes, when he doesn't leave them for later), and I feel terrible about it, even though the thought of trying to cook something is exhausting. On the weekends, when I'm by myself, I even have trouble (as noted before) getting up to microwave myself some breakfast or heat up a can of soup.

I keep fearing that he's eventually going to snap at me and ask me why I'm being so lazy and making him do everything. There's no outward symptom of my tiredness, no proof of how difficult it is for me. And so I just feel like I'm faking it, even when I know that I'm not.

That is why I hate mono.


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