Sick-bed musings

   Dirt. Everything tasted like dirt.  (I don’t even know why I think it tasted like dirt since the last time I ate dirt I must have been like 3 years old! But people tend to use this comparison a lot so I’m going to stick with it) from the bread that I painstakingly applied blueband, peanut butter and jam on, to the over-sugared weetabix. All in an effort to get myself to eat something before taking my medication. I was really cold, and my sweater was the only thing keeping me from shivering-up a storm. Why was I even standing in the kitchen coaxing myself to eat? Sure I know it’s usually a bad idea to take medication on an empty stomach, but my back hurt, my legs hurt, my head hurt. It basically hurt all over! I wanted my bed! To just curl up in a foetal position and collapse into a haze of mindless sleep. The same sleep I had been having for the past 2 hours before my mother came to check on me and realized I was running a fever. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had already known this, but the little voice that spoke logic was overpowered by my zombie-like instincts. The minute I had walked in the house, I had 2 thoughts: Shower – bed – shower – bed. That’s exactly what I did. I showered then went to bed. The med-student in me completely ignored the fact that I probably should have told my parents I wasn’t feeling so good (They are both health professionals btw). At some point in the night, my fever broke, and I fell into actual sleep. Then I skipped school the next day because I felt hung-over. Or at least that’s how I imagine a hang-over feels like because I don’t drink.

   Being sick somehow makes time pass slower. You have more time to think about your life and get answers to complex questions. I realized that when I was a kid, I was a bit of an idiot! I envied kids who missed school coz they were sick and in some misguided part of my brain I thought they were having fun at home while the rest of us struggled through impossible exercises and moody teachers. What was I thinking! This wasn’t fun! It was torture! At some point I may have started bargaining with God. My mother says that I have a very low tolerance to pain and physical discomfort and I think she might be right. All I wanted was for my symptoms to be gone and for them to be gone instantly! It’s a shame the world doesn’t work that way!

   But now I’m better and it’s great! I rarely fall sick but when I do, I it sort of makes me a bit of a baby. And the moral of this whole post is: Be grateful for what you have, especially the little things. Like your health. You never realize how important they are, until they’re gone!

  Ciao...