Sickness

To me, the worst part of being sick is not remembering what it was like to be well. When I catch a cold, or say, a really fun stomach virus, I crawl into a shell, cut myself off from the world and try to remember what sunny skies and a non-churning stomach feels like.

Perhaps its the self-inflicted isolation; however, even my own mother wouldn't come into the house - she just left some supplies on my porch (which I do appreciate; I was in NO shape to drive that night).

But the funniest thing is how when I'm really sick, it becomes the norm. I think wistfully about being well, only remembering that it was better than how I feel at this moment. Generally, my stomach rumbles in agreement.

Returning to work today, people gave me a healthy distance in the halls. Plague. Infected. Unclean. Avoid contact. All that was missing was a biohazard sticker over my cubicle.

But even though I'm feeling better, part of me still clings to illness. As I picked at my lunch, I carefully monitored my stomach, wondering if it would turn against me again. It didn't. The sickness lingers.

In a few days, I will have forgotten all of this. I'll eat chicken for dinner and not worry about Immodium, Tylenol and NyQuil. But until then, it's soup, crackers and Gatorade for me.