Maybe I’m just dreaming about being sick, and I\’ll wake up with no aches or pains or the absent memory of health and be well and ready to face a day with energy. I’ve long suspected that the time of recovery from an illness lengthens as we age, till eventually it’s a near constant state. Lovely thoughts, I know.
So I dehydrated myself, unwittingly. I woke up yesterday, not feeling great but determined to go about my day – I drank some TheraFlu as I drove Abbie to school. Went to the bank. Came home and had some coffee. Started to ache a bit more. I did some work. Then took a hot shower to try and revive myself. I thought that maybe some orange juice would help … and then it happened. The lower half of my body just trembled, my stomach gurgled, my eyes could hardly stay open, and everything inside me groaned for relief. Uncomfortable doesn’t quite describe it (and I have a high tolerance of pain), I just wanted to die. I vomited a few times (phlegm mostly) and progressively felt worse to the point of feeling as if I were going to pass out. Sonya picked up Abigail and got me some Gatorade, took Tylenol and felt a bit better.
Today my entire body still hurts and I just want to sleep and wake to find it all behind me. Gone. Where’s Obi-wan Kenobi when you need him; “This never happened, it’s all an illusion”