Posted by: ritagone | September 20, 2017

I Want to Sleep Until I Feel Better!

I don’t like being sick.

Okay, who does?

You might be asking.

Well, some people do.  I know some people who do.

But I don’t.

For one thing, I’m not used to it.

I was not a sickly kid.  I had to be dragged in when it got dark.  I was out with the neighborhood kids, building forts, playing sports, running around the street and backyards, having fun.  It was torture to come inside and “settle down.”  I don’t remember being sick as a kid at all except for a few times.

I am 73 years old, and I may be tempting fate to say this, but I have not ever had a major surgery.  I had my tonsils out when I was 6; I remember this, because we still lived in Chicago, and I got ice cream.  And I couldn’t go outside to play.  I had chicken pox when we were still in Chicago too, and after that, I don’t remember being sick ever. (I’m sure this is not correct, but you see what I mean in that my mind has erased almost all memory of illness in my life.)   I have had two children and was in labor in two separate hospitals for both of them, then home quickly.  I had minor surgery on two fingers of my right hand, called trigger finger.  Look it up; it’s minor, believe me.  All of my internal organs are still internal.  Still internally mine.  So far, so good.  I’d like to keep it that way.

So when I get a cold and take to my bed, it’s a major event in my house.  Oh, I do have migraines and take to my bed with those, but that doesn’t count.  (Does it?)  So I caught a cold this past weekend from someone, I think my daughter or one of my grandkids was the culprit.  I don’t know which one.  Maybe I don’t want to know.  At any rate, all of our weekend plans had to be cancelled, including my birthday dinner at Lawry’s Prime Rib in Beverly Hills, which I had been looking forward to for months.  What good is prime rib if you can’t taste it, right?  Or if you’re sneezing all over everyone else’s dinner?  So we met at our house instead and had Chipotle around the kitchen table.  This wasn’t even second best.  It was great to be with my son and daughter and son-in-law and husband; don’t get me wrong.  But I didn’t feel good.  To me the food was tasteless.  To be brutally honest, I wanted everyone to go home so I could go back to bed.  It wasn’t exactly the birthday celebration I had been anticipating.

See?  Being sick is no fun.

Sunday’s plans got cancelled also.  We were going to meet dear friends after church and have lunch.  Instead, I was in bed all day.  Sneezing.  Coughing.  Aching.  Miserable.  I mustered enough energy to watch the Emmys.  By 8 p.m. I was ready to go to back to sleep for the night.

Monday I had a migraine.  So I was in bed all day with a bad headache AND sneezing, coughing, aching, and miserable.

Today is Wednesday, and I’m much better.  And grateful to God for healing me.  And thankful that my health has been almost completely restored. (I’m still blowing my nose occasionally.)  And wondering about what a wimp I am and when the day is going to come when I will be in dire straits because something worse than a headache or a cold will hit me.

 

I’ve been studying the book of Job for the last six months and am now teaching it on Thursday mornings at our women’s Bible study at church.  If I have learned one thing for myself  while studying Job, it’s that I have no idea what real suffering is like.

A cold is nothing.

Even the kind of migraine headaches I get is nothing.

But I have also learned another great truth: God is bigger than all of this.  I do know for a fact that this is true, and I’m counting on Him to get me through whatever may come my way in the future.

It’s not a lesson that we learn easily though, is it?

Okay, maybe I should speak for myself:

It’s not a lesson I learn easily.  Please hand me a tissue.

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