I want me mammy

So I'm currently laid up in bed with a rather bad ear and throat infection and feeling just generally crappy.  It is on days like this that I long to be at home in my childhood bed being looked after by my mam.  My hubby is here and he has stockpiled the fridge with ice pops to cool and soothe my throat and bought some chicken soup to make sure I eat something and keep my energy up.  Average treatment from someone who loves you and wants to help you feel better.  But, my mammy he is not.

No one can nurse you like your mammy can nurse you.  Dosing you with sugary pink Calpol on the dot every four hours, making little cotton balls to keep the cold out of your aching ears, running a strict hot water bottle rotation to ensure the cosiness of your bed is never compromised and cooking delicious batches of chicken broth the mere smell of which harnessed powerful healing properties.

My mam was relentless in her care of her girls whenever we were struck with a virus or infection or tummy bug.  She played the role of nurse to perfection preempting our needs so as to always appear at our bedside at just the right time with the perfect remedy.  Dry toast just as hunger started to set in following a tummy upset, cough medicine at 2am during mid sleep coughing fits that she never slept through, steaming chicken soup to help break a cold and the remote control on that last day of bed rest when really we were well enough to go to school but she pretended not to notice to allow us one last day of indulgence.

A constant across the spectrum of illnesses are the things that I would love right now.  A wibbly wobbly bowl of jelly and ice cream and an ice cold glass of 7UP.  I remember sitting on my mams lap in our doctors surgery and when he handed over the prescription for that yucky banana flavoured medicine he would always add "and plenty of 7UP and some jelly and ice cream".  On leaving the doctors we would walk across the road to the chemist to pick up the said scustin' medicine and then drop into the shop to pick up a packet of jelly and a block of HB vanilla ice cream.

I dodn't think it matters how old we are, we are never to old to crave the love and care of our mammy when we are ill.  I unfortunately do not have the luxury of my favourite nurse anymore so will have to adjust my expectations in line with the level of care offered by my wonderful husband.  What I do have and am grateful for are the memories of those days to keep me warm and bring a smile as I shiver here in my sick bed.