Friday, July 8, 2011

Musings from the Sickbed...

So, while trapped at home struggling to get better this past week, I was able to finally get down to some serious contemplation. Not really, but I did come out of it with some interesting thoughts.

- Not being able to speak carries with it a sense of peace, a tinge of mystery, and a gratitude that I didn't fully understand until I could talk again. I was grateful after the fact that I couldn't say all of the impulsive, thoughtless, reactive things that I can say now, and that I realize I say far too often. I was grateful that I couldn't spout off the slight bitterness towards my husband that I sometimes allow full rein, a bitterness that does nothing but injure both of us. And I was grateful because my silence allowed my son and husband to say more than they usually do, when my volubility can overwhelm them.

- Being somewhat dependent on others makes you realize two things: First, that it's not a comfortable place to be, and Second, that you suddenly see who you can rely on and exactly how far. It might be a friend who checks in on you regularly to see if you're okay, or it might be someone who offers (sometimes forces) their assistance rather than waiting for you to ask. It might be a co-worker who steps in to help carry your workload while you're out, or it might be the boss who blames any problems on your absence. It's a funny position to be in, because it can be a vision-clarifying one.

- Sick days always make me slightly resentful, as well. If I were single, I wouldn't have that luxury. No, I'd be stuck with getting myself better and not worrying about how anyone else was or wasn't taking care of me. Now that I'm married, I get to watch my husband sort of move through the days as if nothing were wrong, letting me deal with feeding the child, putting him to bed, making sure he's ready for school in the morning, and so on-- only stepping in when I clearly state my request and add "Because I still have a fever and can hardly stand up!" to it. Why is that? Why doesn't he see how sick I am and want to take care of me? Is this need of mine to feel cherished and valued so selfish and absurd? Does it mean I want him to become my "wife" instead of husband? Not to me, it doesn't, but trying to convince him of that might be a lifelong struggle. I just wish, somehow, things were different.

That said, I'm almost back to 100%. So I guess the point is moot, until next time that is...

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