Don’t you hate when a word you know is used some other strange way? I admire a clever twist of a word myself but to change up the meaning to something else puts me in a constant state of huh? Sick is one of those words. Sick IS sick, meaning fever, chills, gut grabbers, head throbbing, a general feeling of malaise. Sick. Sick should not mean cool or good. I should not have to hear the word sick used to describe a newly built in a week house on Extreme Home Makeover for example. So for the record, this entry is about being sick as in flu sick, stay home from work sick and possibly contagious sick.
Last week I worked a lot of hours at my work church and my worship church. Conditions were prime to get sick if I had thought about it. But I never think in terms of the germs I might come in contact with. I had sympathized with friend Bruce at the loss of his voice and what he described certainly sounded sick…which for a skinny boy is likely magnified due to the lack of a protective fat coating, poor him. But I didn’t worry about catching anything from him, he was sick all the way across town. The closest person to being a little sick was Ed at my Worship church who had a throat soreness cough thing happening. I could have got it from him…we probably do touch some of the same buttons…or maybe it WAS Bruce from across town…I did talk to him on the phone, we did text! All I know is I got sick this week. I do not like being sick. It’s time for me not to feel sick. I am tired of being sick and tired.
I have slept through the week at home. I have stayed home from work, the love of my daytime life. Me. Home from work. Voluntarily home from work. Removed from people to seclude myself from view and from home remedies and opinions about what flu shot would have worked. But not secluded from my parents who continued to stop in. Dad especially. He whistles his way into the house (worse than any alarm).
"Gee Robbie," my dad calls me Robbie, "you look sick."
"Drink lots of water," he said taking two steps back.
I coughed the word thanks then moved toward my sofa that I had armed with an extension cord for my laptop and phone charger, blankets, Puffs, a selection of cold meds, and a bag of cough drops.
Dad left uncharacteristically fast, but not before dropping off more stuff in my garage. (Reminder to self: write about the garage)
That being Tuesday in my sick week he could have been thinking self preservation or he could have decided no shower for days and hair askew was not the welcome signs indicating tea and cookies were an option.
I covered up with the blanket, let my laptop hum warmly on my lap, and fell asleep for the rest of the afternoon. My husband came home from the store after work with a wider selection of meds. I discovered a lovely blue nighttime liquid tylenol that let me sleep without coughing. The tradeoff comes in the morning…you have to practically crawl your way out of your sleep to get up. I had no desire or longing to desire work, at all. That blue stuff must be magic.
Home from work TV is mostly awful. I can’t beiieve I watched daytime TV ever, but I did. There were a couple of daytime jewels but honestly the major problem has not been what’s on TV, or whether I have books or magazines to read, it’s moving my eyeballs back and forth…it hurts! i am actually trying not to look at what I am typing right now because it hurts to look.
My mom stopped in today. She told me I couldn’t go to work, so I didn’t. She brought me oranges and more drugs. Then she left. I had even showered.
So here is is Friday and that’s all I remember for the entire week. I moved in and out of fever and it seems delirium. I am just happy to be able to type a few sentences again. Things are looking up a little.