An aspiring writer fascinated by what we simply are.
This morning I woke up and my throat was so swollen, and my head ached so badly, I knew I would be useless at work and in the process probably just make myself sicker from exhaustion, so I opted to stay in and recoup. I’m sure just one more day of rest is all I need to get back on my feet.
My wife is home too and taking care of me so well I feel a little guilty over it. She’s fetching me things, making my food, making sure I take medication on time, and reminding me to turn off all screen and rest when I know I should but wouldn’t without her prompt. I feel bad for wasting both her day and mine, but I know too that there was nothing I could do. It’s not like I got sick on purpose and if I don’t take the time to get better now we will waste even more time when this sickness is prolonged.
I’m stuck in bed today, wife’s orders. I had hoped that after a little rest I would start feeling better but since yesterday, since Friday really, I have just gotten worse. I’m not so much worried about this little cold as I am worried about what impact a passing cold can have on my chronic illness. Stressing my body can bring on a flare and if I go into a flare it would be like starting at square one again for my health. I’d be back on steroids, back to testing, back to doctor’s visits, and back to worrying constantly about what the next step is.
Of course, my doctor would tell me not to worry about that. She would tell me the worry was more likely to trigger an overactive immune response then the minor cold I’m fighting off. She would tell me that I’m doing good and that there isn’t even anything to worry about until that status changes. She would tell me to listen to my body, take care of myself, and relax and that is what I am going to try my best to do. I know how to get better and if I fail at that; I have people, both professionals and loved ones, that will get me through the next steps no matter what.
Today was incredibly chaotic, but, like, in a good way. I love feeling a part of something and not just any part, but an important part.
As much as we could do without the obligation of work, we can’t deny the community of it. Some of us try to and those people usually don’t last. They move on from job to job in—what I think—is a search not for their passion (which can be found anytime) but for something that feels like a home away from home. My workplace is far from perfect but I practically grew up there. It matters to me what they think. It matters to me to have a place and to contribute.
I’ve been cleaning up the “creativity room” this week and tonight there was finally enough room to actually be creative in there. I took just a few short minutes to make some little cut-and-paste things. Nothing I feel like sharing yet. Honestly, it might be awhile before I’m ready to feel the pressure of social media and the anxiety that comes with “likes”, or the lack thereof.
I’m just happy to be creating, even just a little tiny bit. I’m happy to get away from my phone and from people and from expectation and productivity. I am happy to just be and to have fun for a change. Not that “adult fun” that’s really just hanging out with other adults and complaining about being adults. I’m talking about the kind of fun we had when we were kids, the kind we forgot to bring with us when we grew up, and it was exactly what I needed.