Yesterday morning I woke up a little stuffed up. By the time I got to work, I had a tickle in my throat. It turned into a cough that, over the next several hours, gained momentum. By 6:00 p.m. I was in bed. Then I experienced the fever and the chills, the horrible muscle aches - that actually woke me several times during the night.
So how am I coping? Actually, extremely well. In fact, I'm enjoying it little bit.
Now I know this sounds crazy but it is a real "treat" to be able to stay in bed all day and nurse my fatigue; know there is laundry and dusting, and vacuuming to do and have no choice but to ignore it. Without guilt.
Prince Bob stepped up and cleaned the carpets, made me a berry smoothie for breakfast and home made vegetable soup for lunch.
I had to bow out of obligations this weekend but I am bundled in a warm and comfortable bed and frankly, I am so loving that. Even though I am hacking up a lung and fighting the chills. And wondering my my muscles hurt so badly.
It is times such as these when I really miss my mother. She was a wonderful nurse. Her soft hands would be all over my face and neck checking for temperature. She would have brushed my hair. But then something kind of weird and wonderful happened. As I was flipping through the channels, I saw that "The Lawrence Welk Show" was on PBS. I would never watch it for entertainment value but seeing it takes me back to my great grandmother's house in Sacramento as a little girl. When ever we were there with our parents we had to watch it with Grandma Florence. I used to make fun of all the saccharine of the show - even as a 9-year-old. But tuning in tonight took me straight back there, to Grandma's wonderful house on "Q" Street, with my mother. Sitting on the foam green nubby couch.
And I can feel her with me.
Wunerful, wunerful.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment