Crushed by "The Crud": Anatomy of a Sick Day

What happens when the nurse who doesn't believe in calling in sick......calls in sick. Nurses Announcements Archive Article

Crushed by "The Crud": Anatomy of a Sick Day

Come to think of it, I guess this could have been called "Bashed by Bronchitis", or "Flattened by the Flu", because elements of both illnesses have reared their ugly little heads during the past few days. It started out as a head cold and quickly evolved into fever, sore throat, body aches, and a cough that's turned my chest into raw hamburger; in short, I feel like I've been run over by a truck. While it's nothing like the pneumonia I had in February of 2010 (actually, there isn't much that IS like that, thank God), after spending this entire winter feeling like something the dog found under the house, I am, quite literally, sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I've long prided myself on my stellar immune system, which used to be strong enough to fight off the squirrels in the front yard. While everyone around me was dropping like flies, I soldiered on, taking care of the sick and the weakened, my invisible coat of armor protecting me from all invaders. I figured that I owed it all to being a nurse; after all, we get exposed to just about everything under the sun, and if it doesn't kill us, it makes us almost invincible.

Almost.

Which has made it increasingly difficult to stick to my policy of never calling in sick unless I can't get my head a) out of the toilet, or b) off the pillow. Today, I wasn't totally flat on my back, but the potential consequences of spreading my pestilence to the residents and staff at my ALF were too horrible to be contemplated......and if truth be told, I really didn't relish the prospect of having to exchange my warm, comfy sweats for chilly polyester and making that 40-mile commute.

Now, calling in sick---even when I'd have to get better to die---is harder for me than giving a speech in front of a roomful of people. I lay there in my recliner, cell phone in hand, rehearsing my excuse over and over again, feeling as guilty as if I were sneaking off to the beach instead of being genuinely ill. And when I finally scared up enough courage to hit the speed-dial button (it's "2" on my Favorites list) and talk to my boss, he........wasn't in yet. I wound up talking to the marketing director, who said something like "Oh, my gosh, I didn't even recognize your voice---you sound TERRIBLE!" and promised me she'd let him know that I wasn't coming in today.

Instantly, I felt even worse: what if she forgot to tell him? What if he thought I just didn't bother to show up, like the last nurse who worked in this building? This is my dream job, I don't want to lose it by being considered a no-show, maybe I should just pull myself together and go in anyway.........

Next thing I knew, it was two hours later. I probably would've slept even longer had I not begun coughing up what felt like part of a lung, and wheezing so audibly I could barely hear myself think. I wished for a dose of the wonderful cough syrup they gave me when I was so sick with the pneumonia last year. I wanted to reach down my throat and scratch until it bled. My tongue itched. My teeth were furry and disgusting. Even my husband didn't want to kiss me. My son, the CNA and newly-minted medication aide, suddenly appeared and loomed over me with his six-foot-one-inches, peering at me with a practiced eye: "Mom," he said cheerfully, "you look like crap."

"I love you too," I retorted. He was the one who'd caught this bug from his fiancee and promptly passed it along to his aunt, his dad, and now me.......and yet, he hadn't missed a day of work. So why did I feel so lousy then?

"That's because you're older and you're a diabetic," he pronounced, looking extraordinarily pleased at his expert assessment as he pecked me on the forehead. "You've just got to take better care of yourself, Mom. Gotta go to work now, see you later!"

I wanted to smack him for his impertinence, but I was moving too slowly to do more than swat at him as he sailed out the door. Smart-aleck kid.....he's got just enough medical knowledge to be a huge PITA. Can't imagine where he came by it. But when I dragged my sorry carcass into the bathroom and got a good look at myself in the mirror, I had to admit he'd been right about one thing: I did look like crap. More to the point, I looked like something the dog had not only found under the house, but tossed around the yard for awhile, buried, dug up again, and deposited on the living-room rug.

This evening, I'm feeling marginally better......still sneezing and wheezing and freezing, but now that the gunk in my lungs is breaking up and I've been able to eat some soup and toast, I think maybe I just. might. live.

Anybody know where I can get my hands on some Phenergan-with-codeine cough syrup?? :sleep:

VivaLasViejas

About VivaLasViejas, ASN, RN

Long Term Care Columnist / Guide

I'm a Registered Nurse and writer who, in better times, has enjoyed a busy and varied career which includes stints as a Med/Surg floor nurse, a director of nursing, a nurse consultant, and an assistant administrator. And when I'm not working as a nurse, I'm writing about nursing right here at allnurses.com and putting together the chapters for a future book about---what else?---nursing.

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Awww..Warm hugs across the miles. Get well soon.

Specializes in Emergency Nursing.

You are an excellent writer. This was vividly depicted and hilariously funny, and very entertaining. I've never taken so much pleasure in reading about someone suffering from a terrible cold - I'm rotten, I know!

Specializes in LTC, assisted living, med-surg, psych.

Hey, I'm the same way---I'd rather laugh at life's annoyances than cry. Although this will undoubtedly be much more humorous to me in a couple of weeks than it is right now, with my lungs making sounds like a rusty bellows and gravity working overtime to keep me in the recumbent position against my will. The spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh says "No way, Jose!"

Wow. I read these tales you tell when I find them and I think you need to put them all together in a book for nurses...and nurses to be, and families of nurses. And anyone else who comes along. I think we can all see parts of ourselves in your stories.

You have a real talent for colorful, and honest and poignant descriptions of things that makes me want to read more to see what else you're going to come up with. And on top of that, you were sick when you wrote that!

Hope you feel better soon.

I have been having these same symptoms. Now I am just down to the nasal junk with the can't talk hoorificeness (and I am an Instructor in an LVN program. I agree with mazy. I too love your tales when I see them, you write them so well

I'm sorry, I really lol-ed! That was a funny piece, thanks for the laugh...now that we got that over with, I really hope you feel better.

Specializes in LTC, assisted living, med-surg, psych.

Actually, other than the continued cough (I'm an asthmatic, so that'll go on for weeks anyway) I feel better than I have in months! Guess I needed the rest, because the bronchitis certainly made sure I got it. :lol2:

Specializes in LTC, CPR instructor, First aid instructor..

Always a great entertaining read. I love your humorous and very descriptive stories Viva. :up:

It's corporate America that makes people lament calling in. Some how you are just are just lazy and unappreciative of your job if you can't come and perform with a delirious fever. It's simple numbers. Do you want one person to call in 5 days in a row to get better, or have the 10 people they work with call in one day over the next 2 weeks because they will only "feel" like they should use 1 sick day? Lucky if you have "sick days".

Thank them for your clean conscience when you sneeze in Miss Ellenton's face accidentally and it's enough to kill her.

Anyhow, Thanks for taking a day for yourself.

Specializes in Geriatrics, Dialysis.

I am so sorry...for laughing at your unfortunate illness! Sincerely, I feel your pain. I too am loath to call in unless I can't move or am probably contagious. Why do we feel guilty for calling in when we so obviously need to??

Thank you for making being sick sound funny! I will try to remember this and emulate your good cheer the next time I am under the weather.