Being Sick Is Not My Cup Of Tea (standard:humor, 898 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Apr 28 2024	Views/Reads: 33/14	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
DPrayer is the solution to every problem, even my health.

I do not have a history of being sick. I rarely even have a headache,
but I must confess, I give headaches. 

The last two weeks have been different for me. I have never experienced
such a long stretch of sickness before. One day in the hospital and 
then two weeks in bed. What kind of experience is that? 

The great thing about being sick, if there is anything great about it,
is that you have a big excuse for not doing anything. For several days, 
I did not even get out of my pajamas or out of bed. 

I can't imagine anybody being sick all the time; it just doesn't make
sense to me. 

If there is a good side—and I'm really not convinced there is—I have yet
to find it. When I think things are coming to an end, the road suddenly 
turns right. 

For several days, I coughed and sneezed and coughed and sneezed. One
day, I sneezed so bad that I sneezed my brains out. No problem, I 
haven't missed my brains. 

Getting well is a process I'm not very familiar with. I've had to take
more pills than I have ever seen in my life. And, thanks to The 
Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage I take those pills every day. She is 
my drug lord. I never knew drugs were so important. 

There is an ongoing contest with me. That is, how soon can I get to the
bathroom? The bathroom is at one end of the house, and my easy chair is 
at the other end. Oh boy, I've never seen such a long distance before. 

Most of the time, I made it on time, but that's for another time. 

In thinking about my medication, I have found myself a little woozy when
I get up to walk. It doesn't last long, just long enough to make me 
feel crazy. 

Not only did I spend one day in the hospital, but I had several trips to
the doctor's office for checkups and to monitor the medication I was 
taking. 

At one doctor's visit, the nurse had to do blood work for me. She came
and brought all of her equipment, I looked at her and said, "Why don't 
you just punch me in the nose and get my blood that way. That would be 
easier for both of us." 

The way she looked at me seemed like she was ready to punch me in the
nose. But all that poking on my arm with needle after needle after 
needle I think she got even with me. Why is my blood so important to 
them? After all, it's my blood, so let me keep it. 

For some reason, they can look at my blood and tell my whole health
history. 

The thing about my sickness is that my energy has gone on vacation. I
hope it enjoys the vacation wherever it is, and I'm anxious for it to 
return and hear it's stories. 

I didn't realize how unenergetic I was until the other day when the
great-granddaughter stayed with us. She was running around in circles, 
giggling, jumping up and down, and doing all kinds of things, and I got 
tired just watching her do all of those things. 

I wanted to grab her, but I didn't have the energy, and find out where
she gets all that energy and ask to borrow some of it just for a day. 

In pondering this, I've come to the conclusion that the older you get,
the less energy you have. If I had known this when I was young, I would 
not have spent all of my energy so foolishly. I would have put some of 
it in a savings account for my senior years. 

One good thing about the great-granddaughter, as I watch her running and
jumping and giggling and rolling on the floor, I forget about what I'm 
doing at the time. I even can laugh a little. 



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