The Joy of Rambling

This post was written somewhere at the end of summer, 2024. I never got around to sharing it, but I felt it had merit and might be relatable to some. 

It has been a sick week. Literally. I started feeling the tightness in my chest on Tuesday, which I ignored, thinking I had breathed in water during my Monday evening swim. My eyes had also stung significantly during that swim, causing me to check the PH balance afterwards. It was fine, but still, I thought something was up with the water. Waking Tuesday with a need to cough, only furthered that assumption. 

As the day wore on, the ache in my lungs grew more severe, and by the time I went to bed I was pretty sure I was getting sick. 

Wednesday, I awoke at 7:00, having a doctor appointment for Jim at 11:00, and three afternoon piano students on my schedule. Within an hour I knew I would need to change my plans. Jim was not feeling at all well either when he got up an hour after me. I rescheduled his appointment and started looking for a rapid Covid test. I couldn’t teach my kids knowing I might be jeopardizing their health. Finally, I got in at CVS for a test and by noon, I had a negative report. But I was feeling anything but good. I rescheduled my lessons and went to bed. 

Thus began four days of haze. 

When you are retired and get sick, there are no real obligations forcing you to jump back into life as soon as possible. No kids need picking up at school, no one cares if you cook for them and the house can get messy because no one is coming over. The biggest responsibility I have is feeding the dogs and letting them out occasionally. It is odd to be able to essentially go quietly underground for several days and have no one notice. Our two close friends knew we were sick because we talk every day. One dropped off food, persevering against my protests that we were fine. But the neighborhood carried on as usual. People walked their dogs, went to work, posted on Facebook, mowed their lawns, while we sat inside, mostly sleeping for four days. Around us, life continued as it always had.

Each day I felt like my head was swimming. I couldn’t breathe through my nose, keep my eyes open for long or be entertained even by YouTube. I was under a strange, oppressive cloud. But my brain continued working, sorting, processing beneath the fog.

Sometimes I think sickness is allowed by God and even serves His purposes by making us stop and take notice of life. Whether we need to reevaluate our priorities, think through some hard decisions, or just recognize and appreciate the people around us, God uses all things to continue pushing us forward toward Himself. 

On the fifth morning, I awoke and knew instantly I was on the mend. My chest was still full, but I could breathe and even smell. The aches were gone, and energy was returning. It’s like spring after a long, cold winter. When that first sunny fifty-degree day hits and the icicles start dripping from the side of your house, and the streets are mush, and you can hear a bird somewhere daring to let out a chirp, and the scent of thawing ice fills your nostrils–few people can resist feeling joy on a day like that. That was day five for me.

I have emerged from my temporary sate of misery, a different, hopefully more grateful, enlightened person.

Let’s see how long it lasts.