Nowadays I rarely get sick but whenever I do, my body ensures it pays me back in spades for all the times it wanted to laze or get some rest and I pushed it to continue.
My latest episode started by making me an emotional wreck with no appetite. I hardly ate a thing for two days straight. The second morning I woke in the middle of the night, feeling as though someone had been punching me continuously in my stomach. Being efficient, I popped two painkillers and went back to bed. By the time I woke, I felt light-headed and nauseous. But I had work to do and so I started to make preparations for work while telling my body to get with the program.
By the time I was ready to leave, I had begun pleading with God for a miracle because I honestly didn’t believe in my body’s ability to make it to my taxi-stand. I was, however, stupid and determined enough to try. By the time I step out of my house, God had already made provisions! I got a lift to the taxi-stand! As I stepped out of that vehicle, a taxi pulled up and I got in.
If I tell you how I got through a day full of smiling, catching up and meetings, I would be lying. I just kept my eye on the prize, 4:30pm. I couldn’t sit for long periods, my back and stomach ache denied me that simple pleasure. I couldn’t handle the smell of food, it made me nauseous. Plus, I continually had to dig my nails in my palms to fight waves of dizziness. I had to take more pills and a power nap in the middle of the day just to ensure that I had enough energy to reach my 4:30pm prize. By the last meeting of the day, I was drained. I had to force my body and mind to cooperate with my will. I just wanted to get home.
God ensured I got home safely. Because out of sheer and utter stupidity, I refrained from calling a taxi to get me home safely and took the long way of getting there while fighting nausea and dizziness. In moments like these, I wondered if I had been dropped multiple times as a child.
When I got home, the real fun began. I had developed a fever in addition to the pain, nausea and dizziness. I took some meds and went to bed. Well, that was after making some attempt to reorganize my schedule for the next day. Hell, I certainly didn’t feel like I was going to live. My turnaround point came at about 10pm when my fever broke and I decided I felt hungry enough to attempt eating. I am sure I heard fate laughing as I threw up everything. This is the point where I truly began to feel sorry for myself. I crawled back into bed.
My turning point came at 3am on the third day. I was tired and irritable and pleading with God quite piteously to give me a break. In a brief moment of silence I realized something. My stomach had settled and no longer hurt. I slept deeply for the first time in almost 3 days.
This experience has certainly taught me to respect the power my body has. It also showed me how strong I am mentally. I still cannot figure out how I made it through the day. Finally, it reminded me that there is always a turning point in the world of misery. My loves, you are stronger than you thought.
