My absence here last week was largely due to my general absence from life last week. Somehow, somewhere the flu found me. Let me tell you, it wasn’t all that fun or all that pretty. As I’ve begun to come out of the misery induced state the flu bullied me into, I may have learned a thing or two or seven.
1. I’m a really poor judge of how sick I am when I’m actually sick. Although opening my eyes made me dizzy and nauseous Monday morning, I thought going to work was still a relatively good idea. It wasn’t. I lasted an hour and then went home and slept for most of the next 30 hours. When my leg was building up to the infection of the decade last August, I didn’t have a clue as to how sick I was. A week in the hospital still didn’t do it. It took my friend who never says anything mean to say, “I’m so glad you don’t look like you’re going to die anymore” for me to have a clue about just how sick I was. I’m bad at knowing my own limits.
2. Text messaging is a great way to elicit help from friends who don’t want to breathe in your general direction. I really didn’t want them to breathe my potentially flu-infested air either, but I was in desperate need of some ginger ale. A text or two and voila! Ginger ale appeared on my front porch.
3. Being friends with your neighbors is really crucial to life. Friendship is always good, but friends who are neighbors who stick by you in multiple illnesses? Priceless. My ginger ale toting friends were also the ones who took me to the hospital (for round 2) last summer, made me laugh in the ER, and waited for me to get through surgery. They’re definitely a gift.
4. When you have the flu, there’s really not much sense in replacing the toilet paper roll on the holder. The loose roll is just fine. Enough said.
5. Even with 1,500+ facebook friends, the news feed gets old after a while. Perhaps it was an oddly quiet week for my friends.
6. No matter how wiped out I am, if my feet aren’t warm, I’m not going to fall asleep. Electric blankets still have a place in the world. They have a significant place in my world.
7. Oncology / chemotherapy nurses excel at putting an IV in my hard to stick arms. Two nurses, two days, one stick each . . . success both days! I am incredibly thankful I already had an appointment with my hematologist (who is also an oncologist, and no–I don’t have cancer). Before he even examined me he proclaimed, “You look horrible. I mean it.” (See #1–I thought I was a little better.) He gave me a Tamiflu script and then sent me back to the infusion room to get a litre and a half of saline pumped into me . . . and then orders to come back the next day to do it all again.
What have you learned lately?
photo courtesy of Solstice CETL on flickr creative commons