“Silent night, (cough, cough, hack) Holy night…”

 ‘Tis the season for the flu virus. Nothing announces the holidays quite like a fever sweating through your pajamas and coughing until your abs are sore.  Ho, ho…hack, hack, hack.

Most people return from Las Vegas with memory cards full of pictures, ticket stubs from shows, a lingering aura of cigarette smoke, and a worn-out credit card. I came home with the chills and a throbbing head, coughing until I gagged.

Usually, I’m one of those people who’s in denial of when they’re sick. “No, no, I’m fine, it’s just a little cough,” I say. I proceed to go to work and infect those unlucky enough to share breathing space with me for more than two minutes. This time, I decided to be considerate and called in sick. My decision was aided by the fact that I had to rest in between showering and getting dressed. Climbing up one flight of stairs left me winded and looking for a couch.

Previously, illness stressed me out because my first thoughts were I’m going to miss a workout! I’ll lose my muscle tone! I’m just going to lay around and eat and gain weight! This is the first post-bulimia sickness where I told myself and earnestly believed, Hey, it’s ok to rest up when your body needs a break. In the last two weeks, you’ve changed jobs and houses, gone to Las Vegas for a week, and had one day off work. No wonder you’re sick!

I chuckled at the treadmill in the living room and realized I better be able to brush my teeth and stand up at the same time before I jogged any number of miles. I’ve had friends tell me, “You don’t need to run on a treadmill!” but I know one of the reasons I look like I don’t need to exercise is because I exercise. I’m looking forward to resuming my usual four-mile routine, but right now my body needs rest. My eyeballs need exercise, though, so I’ve been lying on the couch watching reruns of That 70s Show, Everybody Loves Raymond, I Love Lucy and of course live coverage of the NFR. You can take the girl away from the Finals, but you can’t take the Finals away from the girl.

Having only worked one job with paid sick days, I usually stress about losing income when I’m out sick. I realized I could be sick a few days and my paycheck would be fine, since I’d been working more than five days a week, and, besides, God’s taking care of me. He always is, I just forget that He knew I was going to be sick before the first cough. God created the world; if one of His children has the flu, her care and financial well-being is definitely within the realm of His power to remedy.

As much as I detest being sick, this illness definitely brought some good, lasting lessons for which I’m thankful. Next time, the devil’s gonna have to try a little harder to steal my joy 🙂 Now, if only the pharmacy delivered aspirin and orange juice….

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Filed under I Love The Lord, Showing My Scars

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