Monday evening, I got sick.
It had started with cold symptoms earlier that day. After dinner, I started feeling achy all over and soon I was passed out on the couch, in the full throes of a fever.
Not such a big deal, right? I mean it was clearly not life-threatening and people get sick all the time.
Except it was.
Because I don't do sick. Ever. I'm blessed to have one of those constitutions that allows me to slough off illness easily. I rarely get colds, and if I do, they last a day or two. So when I do get sick, it's a big deal (and, I might add I'm a horrible sick person, bitching and whining and moaning the whole time, except when the fever got so bad I didn't have the energy for it).
And this time it was an even bigger deal.
Because my daughter is getting married this Saturday. It is actually a renewal ceremony (read the full story here), but still and all, 210+ people are expected, and there is a lot to do before the big day.
So all night long, as I tossed and turned with the fever, alternately pulling the down quilt over me and shoving it off (same thing with the cats), I worried. How would I tell my daughter that I couldn't help her with all the things we planned to do on Thursday and Friday? Would I even be well enough to attend the wedding on Saturday?
And then there was the matter of the appointments I had Tuesday morning. An 8 AM at the dentist to fix a gaping missing filling and an 11 o'clock hair appointment to beautify myself. In my feverish brain, I imagined myself calling both places and saying, "I'm sick." But then when would I get my tooth fixed? When would I get my hair done?
All these thoughts went round and round in my brain.
And then, at 7, I awoke for the day. Sat up. And decided, much to my surprise, that I felt good enough to get to that appointment. And so instead of calling to cancel, I jumped in the shower and got myself ready to go.
Everything looked fresh and clean, even though it was still gray and gloomy. My dental appointment went well--no crown needed, just a new filling. The sun broke through the clouds as I drove downtown to my hair appointment and I kept marveling at how pretty everything looked.
I felt, not to be too woo-woo, cleansed and transformed by the raging fever, which had broken sometime in the middle of the night. I felt like something big and important had happened to me, something that had been coming for a long time.
And when my appointments were over, I went home and took a three-hour nap.
This morning, I feel pretty good. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I feel normal. And I keep remembering that feeling, how clear and clean I felt. Like all the bad ju-ju had been rinsed out of me. And so now I'm letting the good ju-ju guide me. And of course, the most important thing to let it guide me on is my writing.
Anybody have any comments on getting sick, fevers, or writing in general?
***Note, if I do not manage to get a post up on Friday it is because I've been shanghaied by my daughter at a very early hour wedding preparations. And can I just say how much I miss posting every day? And yet I need to stick to my commitment until I get my novel rewrite done.
