Saturday, January 8, 2011

Sick, again

Sometimes you can cure yourself of sickness by just carrying on with your life as if you weren't sick.  That didn't work for me yesterday. I made the mistake of not resting and now I have a full-blown flu again.  My bones feel weak and brittle, it is difficult to take a full breath, every spot on my body feels sore and tender, if I press against my eyes I see strange and magical colors, accompanied by soreness and pain.  There is no possible way to lie in bed and feel normal or free of aches for any period of time.

I went to bed very early last night and awaited the return of my wife, who had promised to bring me Nyquil.  Sometime around 3 in the morning she came home, sans Nyquil, then took the dog for a walk, then went to get the syrupy elixir.  When she came home I took what little remaining energy I had and stood in the kitchen slurping the tincture down.  I immediately returned to bed and awaited the comfort and sleep that the cherry flavored mystery might bring.  The dog jumped up on the bed and layed down between my legs.  I was lying somewhat diagonally on the bed and reaching down to occasionally pet the little beast on the head and let him know that I would make it, somehow.

The next thing I know my wife was sitting down on my foot, bending it backwards towards its own heel in a way that it is simply not meant to go.  I jumped up and gave a short, half-yelp, startling the dog. At this she stood up and took a half-gainer swan dive into the bed coming down on my rib cage with her elbow, approximately half of her weight immediately thundering down against the tender tissue surrounding the biblical bones of my abdomen.  I pleaded with her that I was in pain already and to please be careful.  At this she sat up in bed, grabbed the Nyquil, opened it up in haste, dropping the lid, where I could hear it spin on its side, then roll in arcs, settling somewhere towards the middle of the underside of the bed, forever lost to practical use. She then gurgled a few healthy doses of the magical vitae concentrate, reclining into an almost immediate snore.

After about 30 minutes I could feel the effects of the catholicon begin to sweep over me, arresting my nerves, preparing me for the dark journey of recovery, the first of several steps towards regained health.

That is all I remember, all I can tell.