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.

8 comments:

Anonymous 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).

Anonymous said...

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

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