It has been a long time-years-since I have had a sickness like this so I had all but forgotten how completely wretched it actually is. Surprisingly, it's not just the symptoms that make it so unbearable for me, however. It's the helplessness.
I am a stereo-typical eldest child raised by an independent single mother, which basically translates into meaning that I don't EVER need help. That's false, of course, but that's seemingly how I operate. That is, until I'm ill.
Suddenly, I can't get out of bed to get a glass of water. I can't cram my achy fingers into the advil bottle. I can't shower without a quick hand "at the ready" considering I'm infamous for the in-the-shower pass outs. I can't even walk to the bathroom on my own, my spine all crooked from lying in one prostrate position too long. I am utterly depend on my husband for all of my basic needs and it would be a lie to say I didn't inwardly hate it. Because on top of feeling awful and helpless, being sick makes me an emotional wreck. I get weepy. I get sad. I get scared that it will never go away, that I won't be able to unload the dishwasher in time for company this weekend, that I cannot go to work or worship practice or the other 800 things I've committed myself to throughout the week.
It seems, I identify myself by the things that I do, and when illness renders me helpless, the sadness comes from feeling worthless. So, I suppose I could consider it a good thing that I'm laid up here on the couch unable to independently move my legs. It is here, when I am floating in between naps, where God whispers softly of where my worth really comes from.
Oh, and that after all he's done for me, I should really consider giving Rich a kegerator for Christmas.
Maybe it was Rich whispering.
1 comment:
Is it swine flu? Whatever it is, I'm so sorry! That's awful :(
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