You know how I wrote about running into walls once before? (metaphorically, that is.)
Well I found another one. A wall. A big one this time. And it’s been awhile since I whinged about my health so here goes.
After managing my health fairly well for a couple of months, I forgot about the walls. I forget so easily. I think its selective memory.
Last thursday night.
Middle of the night.
4am. Awake. fever. nausea. aching. thirsty thirsty thirsty. BAM. I had run into it head first (in the middle of the night? seriously body…why complain when you’re sleeping????)
Since then, I’ve left the house just twice. Moved from bed. to couch. to bed. to couch. Laid awake half of each night with heart palpitations. Failed to have the super-productive get-all-my-assignments done and social easter as I had planned.
I did however, in my stubborn determination to not let this blasted illness win, read 3.5 books (quite a feat in itself when your brain refuses to absorb information. yup I’m awesome. or stupid, to force myself to be productive. not sure which) and watched half a series of the West Wing (at least I can live vicariously through the lives of others).
These walls scare me. Because of their unpredictability. Because I can’t figure out what causes them (is it the flu that’s going around? was it the dancing at my friend’s graduation? was it eating the dairy that I shouldn’t have (and it wasn’t even icecream! fail)? Was it not getting to bed early enough? circles and circles in my head…).
Because its when I’m sick that I get the best ideas for things I want to do but don’t know whether they’re worth dreaming about. Because when you hit a wall it even feels horrible to lie there and rest, there is no escape. Because they limit my future. Because I am least emotionally capable of dealing with a chronic illness when I feel, well, chronically ill. Because everyone in my family hits them. And I want to make sure I can look after everyone.
So. I have had my whinge. I will move on now. It will pass.
One of the books I read spoke of HIV/AIDS patients in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. Shunned by their families and society, too ill to work, too poor for treatment, many lie suffering alone in tiny slum shacks with no bed, no sanitation and no food. When I read that, it really put things in perspective. I am so very, very blessed. Ill, but with a bed to lie in. Ill, but a doctor to treat me. Ill, but food to eat. My heart goes out to all people suffering in such horrific conditions…hopefully one day will be able to do more to share the blessings I’ve had through illness.