Few ben­e­fits to be had from be­ing sick

The Leader (Tasman) - - YOUR LOCAL NEWS -

I’m sick. And I’m sick of it.

Karma has fi­nally caught up with me. It’s been bid­ing its time.

I’ve spent a life­time be­ing smug about my ex­cel­lent corn-fed coun­try-girl im­mune sys­tem, and I’m pretty sure that I’m be­ing made to pay for my ar­ro­gance all in one go.

It seems like the whole town has it.

The cough that lingers for weeks, and then weeks more.

The nose that runs and runs with­out get­ting any­where.

The hor­ri­ble in­er­tia, which spreads far be­yond the usual dis­dain for house­work.

My ears ache. My throat stings. My head feels squeezy.

I can’t taste any of the food I’m eat­ing, which is par­tic­u­larly cruel be­cause many of my ex­tended family mem­bers’ birth­days fall at this time of year, and the as­so­ci­ated wedges of cake are wasted on me.

I’ve re­sorted to choos­ing food based en­tirely on its tex­ture, in an at­tempt to sal­vage any sen­sory sat­is­fac­tion.

You need to rest, peo­ple tell me. I need to rest, I re­lay to my preschool­ers.

Poor mama, they re­ply. Make us a sand­wich. Make us a bet­ter sand­wich. Help us with this sand­cas­tle. Take us to the park.

When peo­ple say, ‘‘I liked your story in the pa­per last week,’’ I thank them with a kind of des­per­ate re­lief, be­cause at the mo­ment, my abil­ity to process my thoughts is se­ri­ously com­pro­mised.

Ideas bat­ter around my head like moths at a light­bulb, then flit­ter away.

Some of them I man­age to pin down; pos­si­bly not the best ones though.

I’m lean­ing heav­ily on my editor to save me from mak­ing a fool of my­self. No pres­sure, Ed.

I know that many other brave com­padres in Motueka are suf­fer­ing from the same malaise.

Every­body nods their head wisely and sym­pa­thet­i­cally when they hear me splut­ter­ing away.

Oh dear, they say. You’ve got it too. The Bug. The Lurgy. The Hun­dred-Day Cough – a con­cept which hor­ri­fied me two months ago, but now gives me a sad glim­mer of hope, be­cause I must surely be up to about day 92.

I’ve tried Lem­sip, Otrivin, Li­po­so­mal Vi­ta­min C, saline so­lu­tion rinses, raw gar­lic, and lemon and gin­ger tea. And now, as a fi­nal ditch ef­fort, I’ve de­cided to try purg­ing my­self through the medium of print me­dia.

I’m en­vi­sion­ing my sick­ness ebbing away, one ther­a­peu­tic key­stroke at a time.

I’ll get over it, sooner or pos­si­bly later. It’s just an irk­some head­cold, af­ter all.

But karma, please know that I’ve been hum­bled. I’ll never skite about my ro­bust im­mune sys­tem again.

Not the au­thor but you get the idea.

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