It’s official. My body and I are at war. Now seven days into this cold or flu or whatever the hell it is, the battle lines have clearly been drawn.
On Friday afternoon I fired a major shot across the bough. No more medication for you. No more Mucinex. No cough liquid. Not even an aspirin. Have a headache? Too bad. Get over it. It was my version of June 6th, 1944. Sure, we lost a few guys on the beach, but the liberation of my body has officially begun.
How has that worked out? I’m still afflicted, still have a bad cough, still sweating through the night, but am doing so on my own terms. I still feel like my head is inside of an Etch-A-Sketch that some six year old is shaking about.
But I feel like I have a stake in the game now. My body has to know that no more reserves are coming it’s way. Their camp is surrounded and supply lines are running low. Eventually it will begin to turn on itself.
No, I’m not completely mad…yet. It’s just that when you’ve been trapped into this thing for as long as I have you have to feel like you’re developing a strategy, any strategy, to avoid waking up and doing the same thing over and over again. Rest. Fluids. Rest. Fluids. Rest…no, that’s it! We are striking those two words from the vocabulary moving forward, except as they apply to “in between games during Monday night basketball” and “detective crime series”. Got that, body? No more extra hmmm hmmm and no more extra hmmm hmmm.
One positive thing is I’ve dropped about 8 pounds this week, weight I put on over the winter that I wan intending to take off. Maybe this whole thing is my body’s way of telling me, “Look, lard ass, you’re never gonna drop that weight…forget those Skinny Cows and the low-fat chips, we’ll take care of this for you”. Sounds like something a body of mine is capable of. And it’s kept me from another week of winter, a side bonus.
At 57, my body and I have been though some trying times together, which includes two bouts with cancer, radiation, three abdominal surgeries and being clinically dead for nearly two minutes just over three years ago. After that most recent episode I told myself, “Whatever happens from here is just gravy”. I’ve changed my mind. I want more than gravy. I want the roast beef and the mashed potatoes and the steamed broccoli with butter. And a few of the crescent rolls with butter.
I’m not ready for dessert…yet.
Should be an interesting week ahead. Stay tuned.
Trapped in a Happy Life 