several days in bed without a brain

my my I wish my post was going to be as fun as the title implies...

sadly...no

so,  sometime around Sunday, but definitely Monday, I got the mother of all viruses...I could go into details around the symptoms and the inability of any OTC to seemingly control them, but that would just bring everyone down. And yes, before I continue much farther I also want to clarify that I DO know that there are a great many people, near and far, who deal with far more serious health conditions than a flu. So we won't get into that. in no way shape or form would I pretend to imagine the emotional or physical strife of a chronic or terminal illness.

That being said I just got out of bed for more than an hour after two days (unless you count the hour at Kaiser getting a strep test in which I was so out of it my husband, a man who has let me leave the house in all shades of disrepair without noticing,  actually said: "cool, now lets get out of here before anyone sees your hair") and still, lets just say, yes, those are my glands you can see from straight across the room.

Okay, enough of that. The real point of this is that I have two thoughts I want to share after having absolutely none for atleast 48 hour straight .

1. It is amazing how few meaningful, deep or emotional thoughts you have when you are in pain. I mean, I did absolutely nothing for pretty much 48 hours straight and thought nothing more than "would water or lemonade taste better?" and "time for more advil?". I woke from feverish potent dreams full of incredible imagery that blended reality and fiction and thought nothing of them more than "not real! not real!".  And it really made me wonder how people with chronic pain and illness produce anything in this world, let alone things of real artistic merit and beauty.
I think it is easy to forget how much pain (physical and emotional) can blind, steal and cripple. I think we live in a society so hell bent on congratulating those who push through their pain and conquer their problems that we often forget to truly acknowledge how difficult a life with such barriers can be for people. Behind this, ofcourse, are a variety of arguments for empathy, universal healthcare, and patience, but right now I'll just sit with the simple thought.


2. Health is a gift and your body is delicate. When I think of all the ways I have pushed this machine, both in good and bad ways, and paid for it, I get a little angry with myself. I mean, yeah, it is good to test the limits sometimes, but when you just feel like raging crap and it is beyond your control it really makes you want to control the days you can feel glorious, just a little bit more.

And that is it. Mostly I just wanted to blog because I managed to shower and put pants and that is VERY EXCITING.