Today, I had a child off ill from school and I am likely to have her off for the rest of the week due to the school’s strictness in applying public health guidelines. My child is ill because someone else ignored the selfsame guidelines and sent their child to school, lying to the school staff in the process as work obviously took priority for them over other children’s welfare. I will abide by the guidelines even though it means that it will disrupt my routine over the next few day. I do not feel it is fair to my child to send her back when she may still be feeling under the weather or to the other children in her class.
I do wish others would show the same respect. Although this is a minor illness, my daughter has had more than enough time off school this year, her asthma has flared up several times necessitating two weeks off and missed days here and there. A lot of illness are potentially quite dangerous for her, and while I do as much as I can to protect her, I cannot wrap her in cotton wool. She has got to learn to live in this world, to look after and protect herself too. But I believe that others owe that same care too, they are all aware of her illness. I suppose if I too had the pressures of a job to hold down I might feel differently.
Recovering from depression is not easy and the last week or so I have found myself backsliding. I half expected this as I had been home for the Easter holidays and always feel down, alone and bereft when I return. Although I have lived here for almost half my life now it does not feel like home, it is merely where I live. Home is where I feel good, where even if it is pouring rain and the clouds are around my ears there is joy in my heart. When I look out the window and can see the beauty of nature, the world as God intended, not row after row of houses. Where all I hear is the gentle slap of waves against the shore, the lowing of cattle, the call of ewes to their lambs, the sweet sound of birdsong, not the constant roar and rattle of traffic.
It is at times like this that my routine becomes even more important to me. It grounds me, gives me a reason to get up in the morning. In effect it keeps me sane. Tomorrow, I will miss my yoga class, I will not see or talk another adult all day, no one will ask how I am. I book my yoga classes and pay in advance so I have to go. That is part of who I am, if I have committed to something then I will not let others down, I will go through with it even if I don’t feel like it. This is how I have always been and it is one of my traits that has got me to where I am today, both the good and the bad. I rarely miss yoga, no matter how bad I am feeling I go and always without fail come out feeling better.
So yes, I am angry not only that my child has to suffer an illness because of someone else’s thoughtlessness but also because the fragile thread by which my life hangs has been partially severed.