In praise of women’s resilience

So Hillary, you have pneumonia. Me too. 

I got mine after too much surgery, whereas you got yours trying to win a contest to make you boss of the world. Mine has taken a while to clear up, even though all I had to do was lie on the sofa sipping mango and antibiotic smoothies, rather than zig-zagging the nation to attend rallies where I would have to come across as super-articulate, super-informed, and totally in charge. When I had pneumonia the only thing I was in charge of was the remote control.

Plus I could tell people. Hey, I’d tell anyone within earshot, guess what, I have pneumonia. Chest pain, fever, wheezing, coughing. Terrible. Zero energy. Come and see me, bring me some grapes. Bathe me in your sympathy. Tell me how amazing I am to be lying here with a partially collapsed lung, bravely watching Netflix, turning the pages of my book unaided. What a trooper.