Mixed Blessing

Some people don't mind getting sick. It's a built-in excuse to take it easy for a few days. Most people who know me well (and know that I generally welcome any excuse to be inactive I can find) might assume I'm one of those people. I used to be.

But now, I absolutely hate being sick. It's partly because I don't get sick unless I get some monster illness that I won't be rid of for weeks, it's partly because I tend to live my life behind schedule anyway, so there's no time built in for six days in bed, but it's mostly because I just hate the feeling of missing out on life. But that's also the one silver lining to it: I never appreciate life more than when I don't feel well enough to live it.

As I mentioned in another post, I've had a stomach virus for 6 days that has left me weak, dehydrated and on all-liquid diet since Monday. It's finally going away. But I noticed something last night. At the end of the usual Saturday night, I start to think about, sometimes dread, the workday challenges that will face me after one more day off. Last night, 5 days into a life-sucking stomach virus, I noticed that I wasn't praying God would take that laundry list away. I was just asking to get well so I could face it.

I find myself doing this most everytime I've been ill for a few days. Those administrative tasks around the house and difficult calls at work suddenly don't seem so bad when compared to the prospect of shuffling around like a zombie for a 7th consecutive day. I'll take my problems if I can just feel alive enough to face them.

Yesterday, I was thinking of all those things I normally take for granted but haven't been able to do in the last week (like consume food in non-liquid form, go the gym, go out for coffee, have a glass of wine, or a trip to the bookstore).
The one good thing about being sick this long is that it re-focuses your priorities. And you never have quite the same zest for life as when every bite of solid food is a cause for celebration...