“I’m sniffling and not really awake and I’m taking echinacea and Vitamin C and sleeping practically 24 hours a day and I have a temperature and I think I’m contagious so I would really appreciate it if you would just go away.” You’ve Got Mail

Flu shots be damned, I always manage to get sick during the months of January to April, and when I do, the only things I want are my bed, my industrial-sized box of Emergen-C, my DVD collection of British Romantic Comedies, and a gallon of Ginger Ale. I don’t need chicken noodle soup, I don’t need “company,” and, if we’re dating, I really don’t need you to come over and see me with unwashed hair, red nose, and my scrabble pajama pants.

If we’re dating, and you hear I’m sick, it’s very nice of you to see if I need anything and offer to bring it over: I genuinely appreciate your consideration. But I will say no, and I will mean no.

I have a friend who got sick over the weekend, and received the following text from a guy she’d been seeing:
“I might just have to come over and surprise you with a movie and dinner.”
She wrote back:
“That’s sweet, but please don’t.”
And he wrote back:
“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t…”
At which point she was like “WTF psycho!” and replied with a very firm:
“No. Don’t. I don’t feel well, and I don’t want to see anyone.”
And THEN he wrote back:
“We’ll see…Can’t make any promises…”
Which is like, annoying and vaguely threatening and resulted in her spending the evening anxiously fearing his arrival instead of resting her weary mind with episodes of “Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys,” like every sick girl deserves to do. (She broke things off with him the next morning. Obviously.)

For me, letting someone see me when I’m sick, with no makeup or wardrobe or pep to hide behind, is the ultimate intimacy, reserved for only the most trusted boyfriends. It’s an interesting benchmark of where we are in the relationship: If I allow you to come over while I’m feverish, we’ve passed a most extraordinary relationship milestone. It means I trust you, and trust that your feelings for me won’t immediately evaporate upon site of a billion balled-up tissues.

So, the more casual dater should steer clear. If things go well with us, you will have plenty of opportunities to see me sick. Until then, enjoy the land of the living: I’ll be back in a few days.

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