The Bendy Straw

When I was little being sick meant getting to stay home with Mom. She would make a bed for me on the couch and bring me a drink with a bendy straw in it. I got to watch TV or read. When I wasn't too sick to enjoy it, it was heaven. Beyond the bendy straw being sick comes with certain privileges. The sick person like old folks and pregnant women is excused from certain responsibilities along the lines of hurrying, lifting, being patient and so on.

Last Sunday we did the grocery shopping and I decided to test drive one of those little motorized buggy things. I would have survived the trip walking and pushing the cart but it would have been it for me for the rest of the day so I figured what the hell? Are they going to tell me I look too healthy to ride one of these? I'll just pull up my skirt and show them my incision. I admit I was curious, too. "What's the top speed on this thing?" I wondered as I careened into produce. I think I finished the shopping in less time with this thing not because it whirred along so fast but because people got the hell outta my way. I don't think they were being polite. I think they were frightened.

All in all I don't find the privileges of being sick to be a fair trade for good health. Being sick pretty much sucks. I'd much rather be able to drive, walk as far as I want, and bend over without having to plan it out in advance than be excused from carrying in the groceries. I can't wait to be downgraded to the bendy straw.