It’s rough being sick. It’s rougher coming back. The days of laying on the couch feeling sorry for yourself are long gone, and people expect you to be back on your A game. Don’t get me wrong, I despise being ill. I was the only child in history, that I know of, to state, “I’d rather go to school than be sick”. It still holds true today.
I spent two weeks, which is two weeks too long, laying around feeling miserable. At first it was mono. Swollen glands and general misery told them so. But when it started getting worse it was the flu, even though I’d gotten the shot. After every medical intern in the city had had their share of staring at me, it was decided. I was just sick. Stay hydrated and get lots of rest. Thanks guys, I would never have figured it out without you.
Again, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be back up on my feet. But I feel as though in a matter of seconds I could get knocked back down by all the demands flowing in. I’m lucky enough to work from home, so they didn’t miss me at the office. But when the degrees in my temperature went sky high, so did the number of unread emails in my inbox. While I was out, I missed approximately three business meetings, two college papers, and one test. On top of that, the wedding still needs some last minute fine-tuning, and my laundry has taken on a mind of its own.
As we all do, I’ll make it. But I can’t help but to return to a somewhat subtle theme of mine, how did life get so rushed?