She Lives!

Morning All.....She lives!

I'm feeling ever so much better today. I anticipate a return to productivity. And now that I can think again, I'm wondering....Why does being sick make me feel so guilty. Really, it will take me weeks to recover my equilibrium. This is encouraging, I'm obviously NOT a sociopath, but, it's also very, very troubling. Does anyone like to feel guilty? Well, ok, maybe masochists...but, obviously I'm not one of those, either.

I let people down when I'm sick. I couldn't make a very important board meeting. Well, I would have, but I called to see if they really, really needed me there. I could barely talk that day, and probably sounded really contagious, and they said, "No, we'll be ok, take care." What they probably meant was, "Dear God, shoot yourself, save the rest of us!". I didn't even want to be in the same room with me.

I couldn't take care of my grandsons. Daughter had to work, Dude had to work, Tall One had to work....I had to sit in my chair, with my box of tissues, and be ill. The three of them, Daughter seven months pregnant, had to rearrange their schedules, give up their free time, and accommodate my cold (ok, it was the mother-of-all-colds, but STILL...).

Tall One has been eating the same meal of "macaroni and meat" all week long. He made it for himself on Saturday. It's now Thursday. He sent the last of it home with Dude last evening. Now, it's take-out or soup.

Tall One, Daughter, and even Dude have been very supportive and understanding and caring. I can probably get past my culpability in their inconveniences...but, Nana goes much deeper.

Let the psychoanalysis begin:

When I was a child, Nana gloried in my infirmities. She would ensconce me on the sofa with bed pillows and afghans. I was supplied with fluids, treats and daytime TV. All was forgiven when in the throes of a terrible disease. This wasn't Munchausen by proxy, nothing so dramatic, I just think that Nana really, really likes to be in control and revels in the neediness of others - even as it annoys the crap out of her. (Nana is a dichotomy.) As I got older, I used this propensity for coddling to great advantage. My weaknesses endeared me to my mother. I stayed home from school because I was tired - with Nana's full approval.

As an adult, I gained control over my use of illness as an "excuse". At some point, I realized what I was doing: Using "not feeling well" to get out of responsibility and garner sympathy. I also had a few fairly serious debilitating physical issues; 1) three pregnancies, I was hospitalised three times for uncontrollable vomiting; 2) two or three awful bouts with the flu that scared me by the sheer brutality of sickness. I also began to realize how tedious it sounds to always complain about "not feeling well". Somewhere along the line I began to accept that "good enough" was just that, and that I didn't need an excuse for imperfection.

But, the flip side of this, now, is blame. From Nana: I don't rest enough, I go without a hat, I don't "take care of myself", I "do too much". Once Nana lost control of the "cure", she tried to gain control of the "cause". And it vexes me beyond endurance - especially when I'm not up to par, which is when the nagging begins. My illnesses now, are a direct result of my incapability. So mostly I don't tell her...but I couldn't hide this one. You can hear the annoyance in her voice. The shortness, the irritability on the phone. Some of it could be self-preservation. When I am sick, now, Nana is directly threatened. At 78, illness is more than an inconvenience, it's life threatening. She is dependent on me for her mobility. When I'm down-and-out, she could suffer. But I do take heroic steps to make sure she doesn't. The morning of the board meeting, that I "blew off", I did Nana's grocery shopping. She didn't "make me". I do feel more relaxed when her needs are met. But, somehow that gets turned into HER martyrdom. I don't know how she does it, but I find myself reassuring HER, ad nauseam. And, do you know what? I do feel guilty, stupid, inept. I do feel like I've let her down, put her at risk, compromised her safety and happiness. I do feel like IT'S ALL MY FAULT, I DID IT ON PURPOSE!!

Dr. Freud, where are when I need you?