Loveday Writing

My mother My Nurse

Some of the worst memories of my childhood revolve around illnesses—chicken pox, tonsillitis, sinusitis, colds and flus. I would feel sick, weak and vulnerable with every illness I would contract or develop. However what would soften these bad memories would be the good memories of my mother stepping in as my nurse and looking after me.

Every time I was sick with one of the aforementioned illnesses as a child, I always remember my mum being on my beck and call. She would bring my liquids, food if I could eat, check my temperature, check to see if I had enough blankets, if I was comfortable, what TV show or movie I wanted to watch and would always ask me every five seconds what I needed. It was these times that I was shown how much my mother loved me, worried about me and how good of a mother she is (good is a huge understatement).

The first time I had to deal with illness without my mother to look after me was October 2012. One day, I was part of a group assessment which involved being the chairwoman of a literary panel, I spoke eloquently and was very proud of my efforts. However I had a scratchy feeling in my throat all day, although I dismissed it at first. Later that afternoon I started to feel warm and light-headed, but again dismissed it. It wasn’t until after I went to bed, in the middle of the night that things got worse. I had a 38 degree fever and I was starting to panic. I told myself that if my temperature gets past 39 degrees, I’ll go to the hospital.

Luckily that didn’t happen, however the timing of this illness was terrible as the next day I was suppose to go home to surprise my mother for her birthday. I tried making the trip, but an hour into it I had vomited on the side of the road twice and gave up. I went to the doctor a couple of days later and was diagnosed with tonsillitis. I ended up missing a week of uni classes and I had to buy groceries and cook dinner by myself. It was so hard without my mother looking after me and for the first time I appreciated her nursing tendencies.

The last time my mother was my nurse was February this year when I had foot surgery. I was off my feet for two weeks. She had to help me get up, she had to bathe me, dress me and every morning before she would go to work, she would put drinks and snacks for me in an esky so I didn’t have to get it up and struggle and so I wouldn’t be hungry, until she came home for lunch and she would make my lunch for me. Although I was in pain, I also felt good because my mother was looking after me again, which the older I get, the less these opportunities present themselves.

I don’t know what I’m going to do the first time I fall ill after she eventually passes away and she’s not here to look after me. I don’t like having those kind of thoughts but that’s the reality of life. Maybe I’ll have my own daughter and she’ll look after me.

I hope everyone reading this can relate to this and will appreciate and thank their own mothers for being a nurse to them.