Manflu

Besides cancer one of the most dangerous diseases on earth is the dreaded Manflu.  It can strike either the young or old very hard, but ususally men.  Women are too busy to get sick, so it hits the lazier of the two in the house.  I personally know strong strapping men who go down for the count at the first sign of post nasal drip.  It’s amazing to me how they dive into bed and live there for weeks dying on the vine, crying out for help and getting out of bed only when no one is paying attention to them any longer.  Sympathy is not good therapy for an illness; the longer you whine the longer it takes to recover.

Growing up in my house, there was a fair share of illness with all kinds of recovery methods.  My parents never acknowledged they had hangovers, so every Sunday morning I thought they had come down with an exotic jungle disease like elephantitis.  Luckily, they both were medical miracles and rebounded by Monday to their normal selves.  My father favored the Manflu approach and laid in bed moaning all morning, while my Mom ignored him, destroyed the kitchen with breakfast for herself, then went back to bed expecting us to clean up her mess.  Sheila, Chris, and I on the other hand would get up, clean the kitchen crime scene, and start our day, even if we were hungover.  Mark, however,  like my father, suffered harshly from Manflu.  He’d rise from bed when the Sun was just setting then stare vacantly at us for weeks at a time.  If the house were on fire he would just sit there while the flames consumed him.  I’ll admit, I may have got hit with Manflu once when I was at Duke.  My roommates and I had a party at our house and lucky me drank a quart of Yukon Jack in one sitting.  I ended up sleeping in my car all night after getting stuck on the barbed wire fence behind the house.  I eventually crawled out of the car around 3:00 PM the next day frustrated no one answered my cries for help.  Trust me, the longer you lie around expecting people to take care of you the longer the recovery.

I worry about my friends who suffer from Manflu especially if they were to get a long illness.  I know they’ll never recover buried under their deep pile of blankets feeling sorry for themselves.  At least with a cold you know it will eventually come to an end, but otherwise Manfluers should be limbering up towards self sufficiency.  Let them initially try some light exercises – run the vacuum, clean a dish, make the bed, fold some laundry; although these activities are extremely painful they’ll help prepare them for the long run.  Relative to your own journey as a caregiver, load up on the Yukon Jack, it’ll help dull that whining in the background.   Slainte!