Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Sick (and Snowy)

My right leg is comfortable, I decided as I curled on the floor. Determined to find some reason to live, I tried to focus on how the muscles were relaxed in my thigh and calf, ankle and foot. Nestled on a pallet of freshly-laundered linens, I made small adjustments to my nest on the floor of the bathroom in the basement. I swallowed against a wave of nausea and my right leg cramped when I pulled myself into a ball of shuddering misery.

I hate to throw up so I breathed shallowly, trying to cling to control over the shards of pain poking at me. I focused on the sounds of the washing machine, moaning pitifully when I rolled so I could see the t-shirts as they sloshed through the wash cycle in my front loading washing machine. I tucked an arm under my head, wondering if I was feverish. My stomach clenched warningly and I curled my toes in irritation. I was tired of being sick.

But, as was my plan, the sound and smell of washing clothes lulled me into a fitful nap. I woke, unsure of how much time had passed, when the machine beeped at me. I blinked at it stupidly, finally realizing the clothes were ready to dry. I stood slowly, gripping the counter for balance, and shivered when I realized I was freezing. I tugged a sheet around my shoulders and shuffled toward the washer, breathing in the clean and tossing wet shirts in the dryer. I set the dial and depressed the gray button to begin the tumbling anew.

I trudged upstairs, sheet dragging behind me, and flopped on the loveseat before squirming with discomfort. I continued upward and flopped on my bed, feeling restless and miserable. I finally settled, prone and propped on various pillows across the foot of the bed. I watched as fluff continued to settle on my upstairs deck, feeling vaguely guilty that I hadn’t shoveled a new path for the puppy off the back deck. Another inch drifted from the sky, swirling playfully in the brisk winds, and soothed by the gentle fall of snow I paid someone to shovel, I went to sleep again.

9 comments:

rpg said...

First!

*cough*

Seeking Solace said...

I am getting over a cold too. Bleh!

Throwing up is such an unnatural process.

Brigindo said...

Oh poor you! Sounds like a nasty one. Angel refuses to throw-up. He did it once when he was 5 (after tasting some nasty medicine) and has managed to avoid it (even with some heavy drinking...or so I hear).

I hope you feel better soon.

Anonymous said...

I hope you feel better, sweetheart.

phd me said...

Poor you. Hope you feel much better very soon.

post-doc said...

Thank you, blogfriends. It's a shame none of you can bring me Jello. Or soup. Gatorade. Medicine. But your sympathy is very sweet.

Amanda@Lady Scientist said...

I hate being sick. I hope that you continue to feel better (and be able to sleep).

Jenn said...

Hope you feel better soon! Being sick sucks.

seekingacademia said...

So sorry you were sick..... But that snow is beautiful!

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