Illness

So yesterday I was coughing up my soul and sniffling every 20 seconds. It was as if there was a small flame down the bottom of my throat--- the pain was not great, but it was always present, and it scorched me every waking minute. Every time I drank water it was like drinking gasoline--- the small flame turned into a sky-high bonfire and I felt myself being engulfed.

Dad was still away on his business trip, but Mum was home. Let's just say that she was not very sympathetic. "IT'S BECAUSE YOU WENT TO BADMINTON LAST NIGHT SEE HOW MUCH WORSE YOU'VE GOTTEN" When she came home I told her I was skipping dinner so I could rest a bit, and she replied with "EAT YOUR DINNER WHY WOULD YOU SKIP YOUR DINNER STOP ACTING LIKE YOUR BROTHER AND EAT PROPERLY"

...What I don't understand is why she gets so worked up over one lousy meal. I wasn't going to die from it.

Of course I ignored her and went to bed anyway, because fuck it. I was sick, tired and all I can hear is the drumming inside my head. I had fallen into deep sleep, but when dinner came, SHE WOKE ME AND DRAGGED ME OUT TO DINNER. ...I had never been more resentful towards anyone who wanted to feed me. As I ate I thought bitterly: I hope you all get infected, then you can feel my pain. I think it would have been obvious enough that I was pissed, and as I sat there, half awake, eating dinner, Mum decides to take the word "oblivious" to a new level, and asks me how dinner tasted. Then she brags about how she added cream to the eggs, and how it tasted so much better. I replied that I couldn't taste a single fucking thing, because my throat burned, my nose was blocked and eating was torture. She glared at me, and I knew I must have been wearing that "disrespectful and ungrateful" expression of mine again.

After dinner, she asks me whether I've been taking my medicine. It turns out that there was still a bottle of pills left in the house that Dad didn't take with him. I SUSPECT IT'S BECAUSE IT'S EXPIRED. So I tell Mum, and she gives me this look of shock: "REALLY? IT'S EXPIRED? NO WAY."
"Yeah, its expiry date was in July, and it is now August."
"OH ONLY ONE MONTH, THAT'S NOTHING."

...And I knew she expected me to take some before I went back to bed... but I walked off. Luckily for me my roommate was there to save me and provided me with his cold medicine. "Don't worry," he said, "these are definitely not expired." ...From that I knew he was laughing at Mum's ignorance... but eh, as if my family hadn't embarrassed themselves in front of him enough times already.

So I take the medicine, sleep for like 15 hours... and I feel much better already. At least someone in this house cares for my illness beyond complaining how I had exacerbated it by playing badminton, and trying to cure me with expired medicine. My throat still burns, but it's milder, and at the very least my headache is gone. Well, it's a sunny day outside, and that can only signify a better day.

...Except Dad is back. *sigh*