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Friday, December 17, 2004
A Good Bad Situation
Here I am sick, sick, sick again. So sick so often.
On Wednesday Lydia/Benny/Sadie were here all afternoon. Poor little Benny was sick, with a cold so I was trying to take his mind off his trouble. I had everything ready and laid out in a way to make it handy for him to make gingerbread cookies. He is such an in-the-game little boy that although he was completely wretched, he eagerly did all the steps and made the cookies. Then I gave him a popsicle and he sat down. I had part of his Christmas present here unwrapped, a Nintendo Gamecube with two wireless controllers and three games. Lydia rigged it up for him and he got comfortable on a squishy chair and played enthusiastically. He loved it, said at going home time, "Mom, let's take it with us." She, of course, told him it's for when he's at Ahno's house. Anyway, I was busy with Lydia and the kids on Wednesday and didn't have time to think about myself, but when they left at about 6:00 P.M., suddenly I was sick. Soon I was coughing and throwing up and on and on and on that went all night and through Thursday until after midnight last night when it began to taper off. Now I'm sore and weak. Even hurts to breathe. Oh, boy. What a life. I was sitting here feeling pathetic when it occurred to me that there may be a way to avoid some of this chronic sickness...I need to find something to do that I CAN do and that someone needs and expects me to do, depends on me. Something that keeps me from thinking about myself for part of each day. Here I sit in my crazy but comfortable house...with nothing that I have to do. If I feel like doing something, I can. If I don't feel like doing something, I don't need to. I'm a spectator of my own life. Don't need to lift a finger. As I type, the yard guy is out there edging every last smidgen of turf that touches a sidewalk. He even weeds! I don't need to do anything. Because I was so sick yesterday, I just left all the mess from cookie-making. Nobody cared or minded. This morning I started the cleanup because I felt like it. Had I still been too sick to function, that would not have been a problem. I could leave that stuff in the sink until the Fourth of July for all anyone minds about it. I think that whether I feel like working or not, I'd better find something to do. Much more of this life of luxury and I could be dead very soon.
I saw on the news the other day a report about that fellow in West Virginia who won the super lottery and got $349,000,000 a couple of years ago. He's in terrible shape. His wife cried and said she wished he had not been a winner because the money was killing him. Since he had no need to work and be responsible, he had turned into a drunk. He's been picked up drunk and disorderly numerous times. Before the big win, he was a highly respectable character. Now he looks like a derelict, disheveled and unshaven, messy clothes, hair too long and all crazy, eyes rheumy, unfocused. Having all the time in the world to think about himself, life has got him down in spite of his advantages. He needs to be working. Today there's no work for him to do and he's falling apart. Lesson in that. I think I'd better get something to do. With all the time in the world to think about myself, I'm likely to cough up a lung. On Wednesday I was just fine until the kids went home and there was nothing to keep me from thinking about the yucky gluck going down the back of my throat. Soon I was off again on another nightmare of throwing up and coughing and crying and gagging out of control. There has to be something I can do and I'd better get busy finding it. Maybe I could read to blind people. Must look into that.
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