Lay it Down

It came on slow at first, and then with more intensity, as I tried to get comfortable.  My room was pre-dawn dark as I narrowed my eyes into their habitual squint to see the clock.  3:00 a.m.? My stomach churned.  Was I drunk?  No, I didn’t think so, though two beers are enough to get me tipsy lately.  Food of questionable origin?  Before I could recount what I had eaten that night I made a quick shuffle to the bathroom and retched. By dawn I made that same shuffle more than a few times, and my state did not improve as the morning went on.  Only the wave of sickness in my stomach could propel me from bed, where I promptly returned after I could calm the storm in my stomach.  Sometime that morning I decided I would not leave my room, my bed, that entire day.

I am a just keep going kind of girl.  Pain, if not visible in the form of blood or vomit, can be ignored.  If I am not obviously ill, then I can function.  The thing is, there have been times when it was obvious to anyone but me that I was sick, and not always the physical flu kind of “sick.”  It has become easier to ignore what hurts then to let the pain take over and knock me down. What if I can’t get back up?

As the sunlight came through the curtains muffled morning sounds drifted and swirled in the room.  I could hear Bryan and my mom shushing the kids as they played and on my way back from the bathroom for the umpteenth time I almost turned at the stairs.  How could I let a whole day go by without participating?  Before I could decide, my body shoved me back to my bed, where I drifted in and out of consciousness for the entire day. Strangely, sickly, I was grateful.

People who are legitimately, seriously, bed ridden should/would find my gratitude repulsive.  To be grateful to be confined, miss out on a day of life, is/should be, awful.  But one day, a day that I knew would be one, was long overdue.  I needed to make up for the days when I should have just stayed down.  Sadness is a funny thing.  We think we are so strong when we can push through it and carry on.  But like mold it festers and grows if left unchecked.

Luckily, gratefully, I was fine the next day.  Better than fine.  If I was grateful to be sick I am even more grateful to be well.  In a dark room, cloaked in a duvet and silence, I got well in way that was unexpected and long overdue.