Holy mother of you-know-who, I have been in a peculiar hub of hell this past week and am finally crawling back to the surface of some semblance of humanness. I am left with some distinct feelings/impressions:
1. I could never be one of those 750-pound people you see on tv who have to be confined to their beds. I spent over 24 hours actually in bed this past week and I thought I would go crazy from the inactivity. Regardless of how wretched I felt, I was not happy simply lying in bed. Unfortunately, I had no strength to do anything else.
2. There should be a special award granted directly by God to spouses/caretakers. Angels should appear and bestow some extra token of love and grattitude, or in the case of Devoted Spouse, a new power tool, on these people. Devoted Spouse nursed me throughout this nightmare never once making any ‘ick’ sounds, never complaining about my constant need for something. He went above and beyond the call of duty in tucking in, ice-chip fetching, trash-bag producing, toilet paper roll replacement, going to the store for more gingerale, and showing the utmost kindness when faced with a nasty, cranky, whiny, sick person who looked like a ground-up ferret on a soda cracker and no doubt smelled worse.
3. Let’s take a moment and all give gratitude to something we take for granted. Charmin. I cannot begin to imagine my recent journey had I lived life in the 1700’s in some backwater cabin with no indoor plumbing and corn cobs and leaves for personal hygiene. Not even the much later invention of the Montgomery Ward catalog pages would have been sufficient. Nothing short of Charmin.
4. I’m happy I saved the leftovers from Thanksgiving — okay maybe I saved them just a little longer than most of the cooking experts advise…but there was plenty of pickin’s for Devoted Spouse to eat while I shunned all things food.
5. One last impression. I know this has happened to all of you. The last thing you ate before you became sick — don’t you have the strong feeling to NEVER eat that again in the future? It always happens to me. I have given up some of my formerly favorite foods that way because the connection to what happened when I became ill and that food is simply too close for comfort. This time it was oatmeal as that was what I ate for my supper prior to becoming ill about 3am the next morning. I have already thrown out the oatmeal can (and it was the good Irish rolled oats, not that Quaker oats crud you put in meatloaf). I shall never eat Irish oats again. Pity.
That’s my story. It’s over and now it’s time to get ready for the holiday season. First, I have to catch up on 9 hours of classtime video lectures and I have my final exam next week – but I can do that.
It’s so good to be alive.