Sick

I've often been told that, when you move to a new place, you are more likely to get sick because you aren't yet immune to all of the unique viruses that a place holds. I don't know if that's true, but since moving here almost two years ago, I have managed to avoid every bug that has made its way around my office. That is, of course, until my sniffles that started last week developed into a full-scale, nasty cold over the weekend. I didn't leave the house from Friday evening until this morning--in fact, I barely left the couch. My days were spent in the company of hot tea, the humidifier, Kleenex, orange juice, and Vicks VapoRub.

I definitely wouldn't say that I like being sick. But I must admit that there is a little part of me that likes it at least a little bit. For one, it is the perfect excuse to do nothing. I shouldn't need an excuse to do nothing, but nonetheless I find myself secretly enjoying the guilt-free hours of endless television viewing. I must have watched eight episodes of "Brothers & Sisters" back to back on DVD. And a movie or two. And I finally got around to starting Ken Burns' PBS documentary on the National Parks, which was the sort of thing I didn't want to start watching until I could find the time to settle in for at least one of the six DVDs in the series.

In addition to granting me hours of viewing pleasure, my cold also gave me full permission to be nurtured and comforted and all about myself for two whole days. As much as I love tea, it has a different feeling when you are drinking it for comfort and healing. Just feeling the mug warm in my hands and noticing how much the hot liquid soothed my sore throat was so comforting. When Dan came home from the grocery store with orange juice and broth, my heart swelled at the thought of being cared for in such a small way. I took great pleasure in the thought that, with the free pass of a bad cold, there was nothing I had to do and nowhere I had to be. And I felt no guilt in my desire for ramen noodles. Because, when you're sick, you get to eat whatever you want.

When I get a cold, or have a migraine, or run into a series of dizzy spells (though I still shudder at the thought of what an awful time that was last year), I'm learning more and more that it's really an opportunity for me to care for myself with all of my attention. Though I could definitely do without the coughs and the sore throat and the throbbing headache, they are not-so-gentle reminders to me that sometimes, no matter what else is going on or where I think I have to be, I can give myself permission to stay in my pajamas all day, eat comfort food, take frequent naps, and be cared for by others without an ounce of guilt. I manage to do this sometimes without the help of a virus, but not often enough. And so, I have to thank my cold--just a little--for giving me that opportunity once more.