2019 has been a rough go. The last six weeks primarily have kicked my trash. We do take for granted what it is to be and feel healthy. I know we do.
I have been feeling sick for two full weeks. Some days are better than others, and some days are dreadful. I feel fine if I don't eat, so for a couple days I didn't eat anything. I'd get desperate some days and have a couple goldfish crackers around 11am and that was all it would take for my stomach to be in so much pain. Monday I made an apple pie for my family and of course, the abdominal pain set in since I had tried to eat a little dinner. I didn't eat pie that night, but buddy, by the next night I was so hungry I didn't care. I inhaled the slice like it was the last thing I would eat. I savored nary a morsel yet fully enjoyed every last bite. Forty-five minutes later, and for the next several hours, I cursed every apple I'd ever met.
During this difficult time, my car battery decided to give up the ghost. This week has been full of appointments and not enough time to replace said battery, so I have been carting around an old battery and jumper cables to keep my car plugging along. Tuesday I was in downtown Troy for a jazz concert with Noah. I was very careful in my parallel parking so I could have room to jumpstart. (Incidentally, we were the youngest attendees by about 20 years. It's okay, it was an amazing concert!)
Last night I had plans to get together with a friend. I ate a bagel and had half an iced coffee. By the time I bid my friend farewell, I.was.dying. I was in Saratoga which is my least favorite place to be. It was raining. It was dark. And I had 17 miles before I would run out of gas. My car started on its own so that was one blessing in my favor. Saratoga is a bit of a distance from my home and there were not so many gas station around me so I set off on the only way I know...the freeway. I was sure I was going to throw up in the car. I could barely focus on the road. I was practicing all the Lamaze breathing, certain this kind of pain was equal to childbirth. I was ten miles from home and ten miles from E when I got off the freeway and headed down Route 9 certain there would be a gas station. Nothing. Cuz for the love there just isn't one when you need one! 7, 6, 5.... All I could think was how upset Ryan would be if he had to bring me fuel for the car. He is always lecturing me about "running it down to fumes."
At 4 miles to spare, I found "Little America" in upstate New York. A tiny oasis in the middle of nowhere that was completely packed. Every pump occupied with casual Sunday pumpers. Each one turned to stare as I waited patiently for a turn, but none seemed inclined to hurry. It's at this point I am questioning some life choices. I should have called my friends more often. I should have taken my kids to Jamaica. I opened the car door, leaned out, and prayed Jesus take me now. Little America cleared out fast.
Enjoy good health, Friends, and never take it for granted. Enjoy good friends too, because they are the ones who will bring you fuel when you are throwing up, in the rain, in the dark, alongside the road on Route 9.
Last night I had plans to get together with a friend. I ate a bagel and had half an iced coffee. By the time I bid my friend farewell, I.was.dying. I was in Saratoga which is my least favorite place to be. It was raining. It was dark. And I had 17 miles before I would run out of gas. My car started on its own so that was one blessing in my favor. Saratoga is a bit of a distance from my home and there were not so many gas station around me so I set off on the only way I know...the freeway. I was sure I was going to throw up in the car. I could barely focus on the road. I was practicing all the Lamaze breathing, certain this kind of pain was equal to childbirth. I was ten miles from home and ten miles from E when I got off the freeway and headed down Route 9 certain there would be a gas station. Nothing. Cuz for the love there just isn't one when you need one! 7, 6, 5.... All I could think was how upset Ryan would be if he had to bring me fuel for the car. He is always lecturing me about "running it down to fumes."
At 4 miles to spare, I found "Little America" in upstate New York. A tiny oasis in the middle of nowhere that was completely packed. Every pump occupied with casual Sunday pumpers. Each one turned to stare as I waited patiently for a turn, but none seemed inclined to hurry. It's at this point I am questioning some life choices. I should have called my friends more often. I should have taken my kids to Jamaica. I opened the car door, leaned out, and prayed Jesus take me now. Little America cleared out fast.
Enjoy good health, Friends, and never take it for granted. Enjoy good friends too, because they are the ones who will bring you fuel when you are throwing up, in the rain, in the dark, alongside the road on Route 9.
So sorry you are ill. Do you know what's ailing you? Flu?
ReplyDelete