Ok, so why is it that God makes us get sick when we have the least time for it? I think, in my case at least, that He does it to spice up the sitcom in which I star. Whatever the reason, Friday afternoon found me in bed, finally admitting defeat against the current plague which until then I had been “fighting off.”
You have to at least praise my optimism. I mean, many of my friends who also caught the plague immediately admitted defeat and thus lost several days’ time in the process. I, however, stubbornly (as only my friends can tell you) refused to fall under the strain of a flu. I failed. But, I made a valiant strike against it. From Tuesday through half of Friday, I stood strong, looking illness in the face and scoffing. But I think I got too close because I ended up getting ill, anyway, For safety reasons, when scoffing in the face of illness, stand at least five feet back. Germs can jump.
And it’s not like I had time this weekend to get sick. On Friday night, I was planning to go to Christy’s lovely event at her home with most of my dearest friends. I was so excited about being able to just get to spend quality time with my favorite girls in the whole world. And despite my loss against the plague beast, I was planning on going anyway. But, alas the voice of my dear mother in my head told me to stay in bed.
It’s a good thing, too, because when I woke up the next morning, I could swear the plague monster had burned me over a roasting fire and then promptly shoved a lighted torch down my throat. This would have been quite enough to take under my metaphorical belt, but I also had to host Saint Genesius Night later that evening. I could barely function, and I had to perform? But, by the grace of God, I was able to. Apparently, I did a good job. I can’t remember most of the evening.
The rest of the weekend and all day Monday, I lay in bed. I was a very good girl…and very lonely. I hate being sick because, being such a social being, I have to hide myself away and become a recluse. During sicknesses like these, I am grateful because they remind me of two things. First, that people, despite how annoying some of them can be, are nice things to have around. They are fun to talk to and interaction is vastly under-rated. It also reminds me where I’m not called. While God hasn’t completely clued me into where He eventually wants me, I do know that He doesn’t want me in the cloistered convent.
So, despite hacking my lungs out and sometimes wondering if my head looks like the faucet that it is acting like, I am up on my feet and carrying on. That nasty monster may have wrecked my weekend, but I stand strong. And next time I will stand five feet away when I scoff…