so this week i finally was felled by the dreaded Work Cold.
the girl at the end of the row got sick first. then the next...and the next...and the next...and then on wednesday, after two stressful days that made me want to run away anyhow, i woke up a bit stuffy and sore-throated.
it's like watching the weather channel and seeing the big green or blue mass of pixels wander over your city, and then seeing it precipitate outdoors.
it was a good thing we were in training. i was sleepy and chilled; the usual suspects. by the end of the day, i knew that i had a nice little fever broiling on the back burner. i stopped and got some of that Lipton noodle soup on the way home: bascially, chicken broth with bits of parsley and noodles this (--------) big. literally. they're probably double that size in width, but it's the most basic soup imaginable.
hunkered down with blankets and such. catered to my cold. around midnight, just before dan got home from being out with friends, i woke drenched in my bed, clammy and hot at the same time, knowing that the fever had broken. i stumbled downstairs and requested assistance with repairing the bedsheets, and dan replaced them.
it's at times like these that i'm grateful that i have opened my life up and added dan to the mix. sometimes he does drive me nuts; i know i do the same to him. but watching him carefully tuck the sheet under the mattress--a herculean effort for me, at that time of the night--was so comforting.
i have a very, very difficult time allowing others to help me. it's something i'm trying to overcome, clumsily. i'm not proficient at saying, "please do this for me"--if it's just something for me. i can ask dan to take out the garbage, or feed the cats--those seem like community property issues. but to ask him to replace my sheets, or get a glass of water--that seems like it is asking a great deal, because the effort is for no one but me.
***
last week i had dinner with my friend amanda, on her way through town, headed out west. we talked at length about where we were at in our respective relationships. i can see that she is where dan and i were years ago, before the gates opened last year, before questions and answers that you didn't want to ask or hear, before therapists and cognitive behavioral therapy.
we talked about my journey, about hers. i did not like to talk about anything "too personal" with anyone, for a long time. i've changed my opinion about this, quite a bit. however, sharing your story does not have to be whining, or asking for pity. i can relate my life's tale, thus far, and she can relate hers, and we can communually learn from them.
***
the moral of today's blog? sharing words and feelings is good. sharing a hug is good. sharing in general is good.
that being said, i'd feel just fine if my coworkers hadn't been so gracious with their virus-giving.
7 comments:
You have a good man. But you already know that.
As much as my husband drives me crazy I know he's the one for me.
I saw just how much he loved me when I was having Miss A in the hospital.
Dan is a godo man
ombren: you don't need a moral when you write beautifully.
Sharing illnesses SUCKS. I think you can share your experiences without expressing more than you're comfortable with. That's something I try to do (in the real world). It's probably especially important for your friend as you can see she's where you were at. You're a great friend, Ombren.
Great! Now I caught your cold!
I too hate to ask others for help. I struggle with it even if I NEED to do it.
As maggs said - you really do have a good man :-)
hi ombren, i've stopped by a few times to read your blog, but you havent updated. i hope you aren't sick anymore, and aren't depressed either. i miss you.
nah, i'm getting better, just busier than all get out! i'm hoping to post yet later today. (: thank you!!! (:
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