There’s an interesting thing about being sick, especially for busy people. For people like me who have “plans”. First you have to cancel your “plans”. You postpone those that can be and you say goodbye to the ones that can’t. You tell yourself they weren’t that important anyway, in the grand scheme of things.
After a bout with vertigo at the tale end of our California trip last month, I came down with a cold. And then it turned into a sinus infection, something I don’t ever remember having in my lifetime. Not fun. I went to the doctor, begrudgingly, but out of a fear that something dreadful was going to get me if I didn’t. In the past, the majority of my colds have turned into bronchitis, and once pneumonia. That would surely drag this illness out another week or two, necessitating the cancellation and/or postponement of more plans. Now that I am of a certain age, the fear of dying lies not too far beneath the surface. And so I went to the doctor.
He prescribed, at my suggestion I’m sure, some antibiotics. I got to choose the one I liked best. I went for the Z pack, something I have taken many times which seems to be part medicine, part magic. “You should start to feel better in the next few days.” And then he was gone. I was now on my own to face the task of getting well.
Not only did plans come and go, unaccompanied by me, but simple things around the house did not get done. I had a good book I was reading, but I was rapidly approaching the end. What do I do now? I asked myself. The truth of my condition then came crashing down on me. I had stopped doing ANYTHING! With the exception of morning and evening ablutions, I was doing next to nothing! Once I had given myself permission to take it easy due to my illness, I think I got carried away. The thought of doing anything that required me moving about had become abhorrent to me. (Well, I had a good excuse.)
This morning I woke up (this is day 11) and with some vexation told myself I would accomplish SOMETHING today. How about your blog? Good starting point. So here I am.
It is really true what they say about a body at rest, isn’t it? The body at rest resists movement at all cost. And I believe the longer it is at rest, the longer it protests the need to get up. That’s just not me and I don’t like it one bit!
After finishing this blog I am going to go out and get a badly needed pedicure. And then I am going to come home and rest, without feeling guilty. After all, I checked off two important items on my to-do list today. And that’s progress!
God bless you. Now if you can, get up and do something!
Feel better, Sarah. I can relate. I’ve been dealing with a pain in my scapular, caused by (of all things) a particular movement during my exercise class last Friday. I am only comfortable when I’m laying back with ice on the painful area but I’m so used to moving that after icing, I get up and do, until I can’t anymore. Then back to the ice. I was scheduled to be a hostess at our Garden Club meeting yesterday, which meant providing food and doing stuff while I was there. I kept expecting to be better but I’ve gotten worse over time, rather than better. I managed to prepare what had to be made by working, in short spurts, over two days. Someone picked up the food and I missed the meeting but I’m so relieved that now I don’t have “plans” and can focus on getting better. Two bouts of PT are now making a difference. You’re absolutely right that when you get to a “certain age “, just plain old exercise class, of 12 years, can shut you down.
Be well.
Love, Georgia
Thanks! You take care, too. It’s frustrating, right? Love you!