Few benefits to be had from being sick
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.