Having been sick for six days, and only feeling worse every day, I dragged my sorry butt to the doctor today. I’m glad I did, because now I’m on antibiotics and should be on the mend soon. In the meantime, I have a few thoughts about the experience.
•There’s something about being told I have a fever that makes me feel worse. Is it pshychosomatic? Or am I now giving myself permission to admit how truly crummy I feel? Because all of a sudden I’ve got chills and even more exhaustion. Weird.
•It’s not a nice feeling when you’re so old that the sweet young physician’s assistant doesn’t ask “When was your last period?” but instead asks “Are you still having periods?” Yes, dammit, I’m getting old and it’s not very nice to be reminded of that when I feel like death warmed over.
•On the other hand, it’s a great feeling to find out I’ve lost ten pounds since the last time I saw the doc. I think the heatlhy food being forced down my gullet by our vegan daughter may be paying off.
•It’s also awesome to have an excellent group of people to work with. I was supposed to be in charge of overseeing Wednesday night activities this evening because all the rest of program staff is out of town for various reasons. But I’m definitely too sick to drive over there and be upright for any lengh of time. My dear friends who work in the office and one of our key volunteers are happy to cover for me. It’s really nice to feel cared for.
And on that positive note, time for a cup of hot tea and a nap.