>Sick

>Have you ever been sick? No, like, really sick? So sick you’ve soaked through two tee-shirts in one hour even though you’re freezing? So sick you’re afraid to cough because your breathing stops? So sick that even when your husband rubs your back lightly it feels like he’s raking nails down your spine? Welcome to my weekend.

It has been a long time-years-since I have had a sickness like this so I had all but forgotten how completely wretched it actually is. Surprisingly, it’s not just the symptoms that make it so unbearable for me, however. It’s the helplessness.
I am a stereo-typical eldest child raised by an independent single mother, which basically translates into meaning that I don’t EVER need help. That’s false, of course, but that’s seemingly how I operate. That is, until I’m ill.
Suddenly, I can’t get out of bed to get a glass of water. I can’t cram my achy fingers into the advil bottle. I can’t shower without a quick hand “at the ready” considering I’m infamous for the in-the-shower pass outs. I can’t even walk to the bathroom on my own, my spine all crooked from lying in one prostrate position too long. I am utterly depend on my husband for all of my basic needs and it would be a lie to say I didn’t inwardly hate it. Because on top of feeling awful and helpless, being sick makes me an emotional wreck. I get weepy. I get sad. I get scared that it will never go away, that I won’t be able to unload the dishwasher in time for company this weekend, that I cannot go to work or worship practice or the other 800 things I’ve committed myself to throughout the week.
It seems, I identify myself by the things that I do, and when illness renders me helpless, the sadness comes from feeling worthless. So, I suppose I could consider it a good thing that I’m laid up here on the couch unable to independently move my legs. It is here, when I am floating in between naps, where God whispers softly of where my worth really comes from.
Oh, and that after all he’s done for me, I should really consider giving Rich a kegerator for Christmas.
Maybe it was Rich whispering.
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