I spent most of today lying in bed. It was a wise choice because by 2PM I started to think that I would feel well enough to walk tonight. Considering that yesterday I was wishing for a medically-induced coma to ride out this flu I would say that I am making progress.
We have several packages that need to go to UPS. Yes, a couple of them have been sitting in the dining room for weeks, but one is our recalled Vitamix container and the sooner we send it out the sooner it comes back (and the sooner we can stop hacking the food processor into a smoothie maker), so the pile of packages jumped up the priority list.
Papa said he would try to come home to take them in time. I said I would try too. I printed some return labels and hauled myself out of bed to get the packages sorted, taped, and labeled.
I was out of breath and wheezing within 15 minutes; I think I understand what people mean when they say that they feel like an elephant is standing on their chest. That 15 minutes may have set me back to yesterday. Seriously. I got back in bed and texted Papa that I just couldn't do it.
And just like that, he said he would come and do it. Even though he is crazy busy at work, he left to come home to do my errand.
I love that man.
I hate being ill. I especially hate being this kind of ill, the kind where I have to lie here and do nothing (or almost nothing ... I can fold laundry in bed). I used to pride myself on being to keep it all going even though I was sick. Heck, I was proud of myself for pulling off our main meal lunch yesterday (by 2PM I realized what a stupid idea that had been).
But being ill is teaching me a few good lessons, the foremost being that I should take my own advice. Without fail I send my kids to bed when they are sick. Their entire lives I have pulled them out of activities and park days as soon as the numbers on the thermometer rise or their throats are sore. And I have pretty healthy kids, so something must be working.
Another lesson is that my body in its 40s is not as resilient as my body in its 20s or 30s. This is my first flu in my 40s (I did have a weird come and go fever a few years ago that baffled me, but nothing like this). I am guessing that one can't power through the flu quite the same way that one does the common cold.
I didn't get a flu shot. Even though I am rather ill I'm still glad I didn't get a flu shot. Other people can debate them, but for me personally the risk of the shot still outweighs the risk of the flu. I don't know if that will hold true in another decade; as an asthmatic each respiratory illness can be serious. But for now I'd rather not have heavy metals and who knows what else injected into my body.
The biggest lesson of all is to accept ... my limits, help, even sympathy. To get in bed and stay in bed and let the kids eat cold cereal and let Papa bring in take out and just roll with it.
So I am thankful today for a life that allows me this illness. I am thankful that I will not lose my job for needing to stay home ill. I am thankful that I can afford for us to buy a few takeout meals until I am up to cooking again. I am thankful to have a partner who can help me through this.