Recovering at My Age
This past week or so has been a rough one. About a week and a half ago, I came down with something. It was either the flu or food poisoning. Not sure which. But the bottom line is that it took well over a wee to fully recover. There were a couple of days that I crashed early and tried to sleep it off. There were some days where I was shivering uncontrollably. And I spent a lot of time running to rest room. But it wasn't the illness itself I wanted to write about.
It's how I handled it. I will give full credit to my wife. She took care of my admirably well. She got me water or Advil or whatever I needed when I was down hard. She encouraged me to get rest. One day I was incredibly nauseous and she made me Jell-O (I cannot express how touched I was when I found out she made me Jell-O). She did all the things a loving and caring wife would do for her husband.
The problem (of course) was me. Normally, when I get sick, I sleep it off and feel well enough the next day that I can function well after that. After about two days, I'm pretty much normal. My usual methodology is to pound illness into submission by stubbornly staying with my routine: eating normal, regular meals, getting up at the same time, working out, doing homework, etc. In other words, what I always do. I tough things out because I don't have time to be sick. And, frankly, I seldom get sick.
Well, by the end my wife gently reminded me (while giving me the Wife Look), that perhaps I should slow down and actually, you know, REST and take it easy. Maybe call in sick and take a day off from work. Because, like it or not, I will be 50 this year and I ain't getting any younger. Perhaps what working in the past isn't going to work so well in the future.
Dammit, I have when she's right. Which is pretty much almost all of the time. It sucks to realize that while I'm in good shape and very healthy for a guy my age, I'm not as young as I used to be. And while I'm not falling apart, perhaps I need to listen a little more to what my body is telling me. Boy that's a kick in the ass. In my brain, I'm still should be in my 20's. But the rest of me is WAY past that.
I've fully recovered from my illness and am getting back into my routine. But after just one workout I can tell that it's going to take some time to get back to where I was just a week ago. I may need to slow down just a little, but I want to fight it kicking and screaming. I also absolutely hated having to leave class early on Wednesday for not feeling well. I'm really enjoying the diaconate program right now and was looking forward to the topic we were going to discuss. I guess I'll just need to make sure I take care of myself well so I don't take so long to recover next time. And, of course, I've got my wife to remind me to do just that. And I'll probably listen to her, if for nothing else I know she has my best interests at heart. Which is one of the many reasons why I love her.
It's how I handled it. I will give full credit to my wife. She took care of my admirably well. She got me water or Advil or whatever I needed when I was down hard. She encouraged me to get rest. One day I was incredibly nauseous and she made me Jell-O (I cannot express how touched I was when I found out she made me Jell-O). She did all the things a loving and caring wife would do for her husband.
The problem (of course) was me. Normally, when I get sick, I sleep it off and feel well enough the next day that I can function well after that. After about two days, I'm pretty much normal. My usual methodology is to pound illness into submission by stubbornly staying with my routine: eating normal, regular meals, getting up at the same time, working out, doing homework, etc. In other words, what I always do. I tough things out because I don't have time to be sick. And, frankly, I seldom get sick.
Well, by the end my wife gently reminded me (while giving me the Wife Look), that perhaps I should slow down and actually, you know, REST and take it easy. Maybe call in sick and take a day off from work. Because, like it or not, I will be 50 this year and I ain't getting any younger. Perhaps what working in the past isn't going to work so well in the future.
Dammit, I have when she's right. Which is pretty much almost all of the time. It sucks to realize that while I'm in good shape and very healthy for a guy my age, I'm not as young as I used to be. And while I'm not falling apart, perhaps I need to listen a little more to what my body is telling me. Boy that's a kick in the ass. In my brain, I'm still should be in my 20's. But the rest of me is WAY past that.
I've fully recovered from my illness and am getting back into my routine. But after just one workout I can tell that it's going to take some time to get back to where I was just a week ago. I may need to slow down just a little, but I want to fight it kicking and screaming. I also absolutely hated having to leave class early on Wednesday for not feeling well. I'm really enjoying the diaconate program right now and was looking forward to the topic we were going to discuss. I guess I'll just need to make sure I take care of myself well so I don't take so long to recover next time. And, of course, I've got my wife to remind me to do just that. And I'll probably listen to her, if for nothing else I know she has my best interests at heart. Which is one of the many reasons why I love her.
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