EFML: On sickness and strength

Growing up, my mother was always scornful of sickness. The occasional time that she fell sick, she would never take time off either from work or from household chores. She would pretend that everything was normal, and work through her sickness. Sometimes for a day, or maybe even three. Similarly, when she once injured herself badly after her two wheeler fell on her leg, she came home and bandaged her leg and went back to normal. I have heard stories of how she worked till the very day I was born, and then returned to work in a couple of days. She looked at sickness as an enemy, and she would never let it declare victory over her. She was invincible. I saw her as an epitome of strength, and these incidents as testimony to that fact.

In contrast to her, I was someone who struggled with sickness and pain. During my childhood, I would catch a fever every two weeks if not more often. Like every other person, I hated being sick. But because of the example she set for me, I also started feeling guilty about falling sick. I felt "weak" that I could not trudge through my sickness like she could. For many years, I tried. I was that kid in school who would never take leave. In ten years of schooling, I'd have taken less than 15 days off. But I would struggle on the days I was sick, and I started taking medicine. It started with a harmless analgesic, and then gradually progressed to antibiotics. After 5 years, low grade antibiotics entirely stopped working on me. That was a harsh reality check, and it scared me. One day, I stopped taking medicines altogether. Working through illness became even harder without the pills, yet I refused to take rest because I associated it with weakness. And I wanted to be nothing but strong.

Many years later, I was working in my first job. And I still felt the same way about taking time off when I was sick. I would still go in to work, and struggle through the many meetings, assignments and commitments I had, and then struggle through the commute rather than take leave. My husband was appalled. One day, he put his foot down and said to me: "You're in no condition to go to work. Give your body the rest that it so obviously needs." I did take leave that day, although I felt extremely guilty and weak. It was then that I started questioning the attributes I associated with sickness. Is choosing to give your body some rest a sign of weakness? Not really. Is continuing to work through your sickness a sign of strength? Not really.

I looked with new eyes at my mom's behavior, especially around the house. Did she choose to carry out her household responsibilities because she was strong? Or was it because none of us at home had offered to take over her responsibilities even for a couple of days? I am inclined to think it was the latter. In praising and glorifying her commitment to her family even when she was sick, we had perhaps conditioned her to never let go. To do so would mean to fall in our eyes. To do so would mean she was less than ideal. That she did not love us enough. I would be furious if someone expected me to handle all the household chores when I had a raging fever, and yet, I had unconsciously expected that of my mother. Sigh! The ridiculous expectations we have from mothers. 

Today, I am free of this bias. I do not look at someone as a weakling if they take time off for being sick. I do not feel guilty about falling sick. I still hesitate a lot before taking leave, but I am kinder to myself than I have been in the past.