Super Mum

It’s frustrating going from being the type of person who can work a year without taking a day off to suddenly taking them all the time, courtesy of sick children.

However, last week I could only blame myself.

Silly me – why did I think I could get away with a sudden lifestyle change and survive on next to no sleep?

Even energizer bunnies eventually crash and burn.

Being a stay-at-home mum, who worked on occasion, ran five times a week and, amongst doing all the usual mundane chores, pretty much did what I wanted when I wanted – particularly in the last few months when all three kids were at school, was pretty cruisy in hindsight. Going from that to almost full-time work, no exercise, trying to still fit in all the things I used to do during the day now in the evenings, and not sleeping must have been a shock to the system.

But I thought I was coping just fine.

The accumulating headaches over the past few weeks were bearable until they evolved into accompanying dizzy spells and nausea, to the point that, despite my best efforts, my boss noticed I was ‘away with the fairies’ (more than usual) from being unable to focus.

It culminated in taking myself off to the medical practitioners on my lunchbreak. But of course a sneaky visit to the doctor’s could never be achieved in a half-hour lunch break. So, instead I found myself texting my boss apologising for my absence and explaining I was bed-ridden with a line in my arm so wouldn’t be going anywhere in a hurry.

She was up there in a flash and my attempt at being a discreet, non-hypochondriac resulted in being sent home for several days, with my fatigue-induced chronic headache, to rest up and try to find some lifestyle balance.

It was just as well I went home – I got worse. The rare sight of mummy horizontal on the couch later that day proved a source of entertainment for the twins who stood peering down at me, concern etched on their little faces. Apparently I was a freak show and, as I drifted in and out, the rustling of papers, followed by them placing multiple “I love Mummy” and heart-festooned pictures on me (complete with the odd paper cut) brought me back to the now with a jolt.

It’s interesting how many of us quietly fear the worst when we have major headaches and, convinced it was something sinister, I found myself back up at the medical practitioner’s two days later for a follow-up visit.

A scan and blood tests came back clear and, as I lay with my pounding head hooked up to a drip, surrounded by a crying baby, someone spewing their ring out, and a very large woman complaining how constipated she was, I tried to count myself lucky.

Still, I wanted out of there.

I hate needles and the mere thought of one coming near me makes me feel faint. However, I was stuck until the drip finished doing its thing.

As soon as it was done I pushed the beeper to alert someone I wanted to go home. Staff were run off their feet that day but eventually and with a renewed appreciation for medical staff and all they endure, I took myself back home feeling rather spaced out from it all.

It was 6 o’ clock and I was good for nothing but to put myself to bed. I sent mum a jumbled text explaining I was switching off all media and going to bed so not to worry. She must’ve had a mother’s instinct for, within half a minute, and like a god-send, she knocked at the door and proceeded to watch over me all night.

And, for once, I actually slept. The following morning I awoke to the remnants of Cyclone Lusi and, as well as clean windows (chur Lusi), minimal damage, thanks to mum’s partner driving out from the other side of town to batten down my hatches.

The following day a visit to the osteopath turned up a clue – apparently, as a result of the sudden lifestyle change, everything had seized up culminating in the major headaches… from which I had decided I was dying.

Eventually, with the help of the osteopath, acupuncturist and several day’s rest, I was back on track with the new-found wisdom that there is no point trying to be Super Mum – it just leaves you flat on your back with paper cuts.