When you’re feeling sick, nothing in the world feels right. It’s like your vision is lopsided, flipped over, reversed upon itself, and when you need it most, no one is there to help. It’s infuriating, frustrating, and debilitating.
When I was sick yesterday, I felt completely at odds with myself. My forehead pumped endlessly against itself, and I began to feel warm, warmer than usual, a warmth that permeated my body and overwhelmed me. I had to take a minute to sit and relax myself, or else I felt like bursting into fireworks.
Eventually, I made my way home. It was necessary, given the fact that I had nothing else to do at work that day, and the noise from the spring concert would only make my hearing and headache worse. I had a migraine that absolutely blew through my head.
When I got home, I immediately laid down in my bed, waiting for the sickness to disappear. It’s never an easy transition. It always takes time, and when you need time on your side, it betrays you and waits for you to pay more attention to it. Like a man searching for water in the desert, only to stumble upon a mirage, I felt adrift and wandering around in my thoughts, going nowhere and waiting for someone to save me.
Unfortunately, that never came. But eventually, the medicine I took kicked in, and by the time I woke up a couple hours later, all was good. It’s amazing how quickly it works after you’ve spent time doing nothing but staring into darkness in your bed.
Being sick makes me feel miserable. It’s part of the package that comes with being sick, after all, is misery. It comes with it naturally. There’s nothing you can do about it but wait, wait, and wait some more. I’m glad that part of my day is over, though.