BY JILL MATLOW I was sick all the time as a child—mumps, chicken pox, asthma, allergies, sore throats—you name it, I was infected with it! My mom used to give me a bell to ring so that she could hear me downstairs while I was recuperating upstairs in my pajamas (and robe!), most likely watching back-to-back cartoons. Now that I’m older and don’t have a bell to ring (or a robe to wear), it’s a completely different story when I’m convalescing. I have loads of friends in the city and in my apartment building, yet I hate asking people for help. Are you the same way? It makes it even more complicated living in a city where everything from your food to your meds to your toiletries can be delivered to your front door. You sometimes feel foolish saying “yes” when the offers of help are extended to you.
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