Sick note

Sick day’s followed a very familiar routine. It would begin with a tummy ache, I do stand by the fact that I did, for most cases, have a genuine tummy ache – probably known nowadays as school anxiety, which also meant the minute I was given the all clear to stay at home it would subside. Luckily for me my dad would have left for work early leaving my Mum to deal with the pre-school chaos, a gentle and kind heart that meant a soft touch when it came to staying off school. I must point out here that kindness should never be mistaken for weakness – this was a piece of acting I had perfected.Once the curtain came down on act one, I would pull myself into the downstairs toilet in case by miracle I was actually sick and once the door was closed and locked I would very, very quietly jump up and down with my hands like two victory fists. By the time I had come back out the toilet, I knew the deal was sealed when the Tom and Jerry sleeping bag had been carefully laid on the sofa and TV poised for a day of daytime viewing.The utter joy of hearing the opening beats of This morning – carefully watching that slow zoom across the Albert dock before the camera finally closing in on the Ultimate ‘it’ couple Richard and Judy, because it indicated weekday TV and that indicated I had landed myself a sick day. The Madeley & Finnigan Albert Dock era was also the pinnacle of daytime TV.Once happily settled with a cold flannel the ‘gold bell’ would appear. That’s right. If, while I was watching Fred Talbot jumping between Ireland and England on the floating map and I felt I needed emergency help, I could ring the bell and my mum would emerge. One time we had misplaced the sick bell, but my mum always the creative problem solver decided to get a mop and tie it to an extra broom handle so the mop head was in the hallway and the handle just in arms reach of me, so I could raise the mop to indicate I needed medical assistance.Luckily in the early 90s we had two full proof cures for any sort of illness, it really was quite a remarkable feat of science. The first, a large glass bottle of Lucozade wrapped in dark orange cellophane - maybe to protect the medicinal excellence or to stop the e numbers and sugar content from losing their potency in daylight. The second was two spoonful’s of bright pink strawberry Calpol carefully administered on the helpful flat white spoon that came in the box. Nowadays its sugar free and comes with a plastic syringe which when I administer it to my kids almost makes me feel like a qualified doctor, or junkie. Often giving one filled syringe to them and one to me – like a sort of numbing aid for overworked mothers.If my initial attempt of a sick day failed, the back-up would be a visit to the medical room in the hope a call would be made home and I would be collected. The medical room, I imagine was like most school medical rooms - located in a cupboard. A photocopier was wedged next to a wartime style camp bed, topped with a homemade crochet blanket. It smelt of potent disinfectant, which really helped with the gag reflex when you were trying to dry heave over the schools universal bucket. Sometimes I tried so hard to bring up anything tears would stream from my eyes, but then every little helps. I was usually alone in the medical room unless it was the day the nit nurse visited, then I would be joined by the same brother and sister having their seemingly permanent residence evacuated. Until the following visit.Along with staying at home for sick days I really enjoyed trips to the local A&E. Although, to get me into an A&E waiting room nowadays I’d have to have at least one limb hanging off.The local A&E to us was not as you would imagine, it was more of a small village walk in, in a tiny hospital. A woman would sit behind a hatch in the wall and around 5 bays with beds were behind a large wooden door. I went for an array of reasons including several asthma attacks despite the fact I did not have asthma, but I really wanted one of those turquoise inhalers. Several suspect bone breaks – always turning out to be ‘just a nasty sprain’ and one time I was simply the bystander of an unfortunate incident where my mum had asked my sister to close her eyes while she tried on a ring that was a prospective Christmas present which immediately got stuck and had to be cut free from her finger that was slowly turning an odd shade of purple, using an odd can opener style piece of equipment. God, I loved that place.The village also had a doctor’s surgery which was situated in an old coaching house. The building was beautiful with low wooden beams and an array of mix and matched vintage chairs in the large waiting room. Once I clearly remember a man checking in and then falling right through one of the ancient chairs. At least he had an appointment ready and waiting for his injuries.The village doctor was called Dr Hill-cousins, he was rather charming and as you explained your ailments, he would run a hand through his floppy longish greying hair. The tricky thing with this is nobody would visit him if they weren’t looking there best – an inherent problem when visiting a doctor and on occasion it was rumoured that once finding out you had been assigned to him you would change the very reason you went in altogether. It was exciting, like our very own real-life Dr Preston from Peak Practice.Eventually my love of being sick became an annoyance and unbeknown to me a meeting was arranged with my junior schoolteacher. I was given a special job in the morning and at lunchtime to distribute the registers to each class room in a weak attempt to make the prospect of school more appealing than Richard and Judy. My teacher was told not to send me to the medical room if I complained of a tummy ache, which resulted in an unfortunate vomiting incident in the corridor one day.I believe this is what you call the boy who cried wolf – or in my case the girl who cried tummy ache!*Footnote – I have zero regrets in the enjoyment I got from sick days as a child. As soon as I became a freelancing working adult and then a mum on top of that a sick day has become obsolete. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit toriecampbell.substack.com