Monday, May 10, 2010

try not to faint

Why? Because it's not fun.

I think I mentioned on this blog a week ago that everyone in my family but me was sick. Well . . . that didn't last. Now almost everyone but me is well, or getting well. I got sick a week ago, and I thought I was getting better this past weekend. But last night I woke up every time my husband turned over, and every time I woke up, I was aware of how much me head ached. So when I woke up and noticed it was a bit light, I thought, I'll go downstairs and take some Advil and then come back up to bed. Then it can work while I sleep, and I'll feel better when I actually do get up.

So I went downstairs, and poured myself a glass of milk (so I wouldn't be taking it on an empty stomach) and got out the Advil and Sudefed (I was stuffy too) and then, just as I put one of the pills in my mouth, I felt a wave of nausea and got really dizzy. I remember saying, "Oh, sh--."

And then I don't remember anything until I had this weird moment when I was awake and couldn't figure out where I was, or who I was or what was going on. A minute more, and I realized I was on the kitchen floor. A minute more, and I remembered why I'd come downstairs.

-and can I just say: I hate that moment when you wake up from a faint and don't know what's going on. It's scary as all get out. - 

So, as I lay there, I also realized that my head hurt. And I thought, of course it does, you fainted on a tile floor. And then I realized my elbow hurt too; I must have hit it first on the way down, and to be honest, I'm grateful, otherwise I might have hurt my head worse.

And then I realized I had to get back upstairs.  it took me a long time to convince myself to go though. I felt so rotten; moving was the last thing I wanted to do. 

but I did. I actually crawled, because I was afraid of fainting again and because I felt so rotten. I remember stopping partway up the stairs and thinking of that part in Little House on the Prarie where Pa and Ma were so sick, there was no one to get water for the children, who were also sick. and I thought, this is awful. I won't be able to take care of anyone. what would I do if the children needed me right now? I can't even stand up. 

And I guess that's why I'm blogging this, other than the fact that I'm bored, and I'm finally able to sit up (I've been lying down, trying not to move all day - and this has been complicated by the fact that I can't lie straight back, because I have a huge, painful goose-egg bump on the back of my skull). Why is it that being this sick makes me feel nothing other than guilty? It feels shameful that I should have been so sick that I fainted.  I know it's not my fault, but my husband's had to stay home from work and take care of the kids while I've done nothing - nothing - all day. I can't even write or craft (I'm getting away with this right now because I'm typing by feel mostly - reading lines of text makes me feel - how else? - sick. I keep trying to read a bit then having to stop. Yay for iTunes! At least I can listen).  I just feel so silly. 

and that strikes me as weird. I know it's normal for humans to feel badly about their faults, ashamed of the weaknesses we indulge, ashamed of our sins - but why do we also feel ashamed of the weaknesses we can't help? why is that part of the human condition?

I don't know. but Virginia Woolf once wondered why there isn't more literature about illness and now, seeing how philosophical illness apparently makes me, I'm beginning to wonder myself. So here, Virginia, it's not literature, but here's at least a blog.

Hope all of you feel better than me.

peace of Christ to you,

Jessica Snell

p.s. someone is going to yell at me for not going to the doctor. First of all and most importantly, I can't imagine getting in a moving vehicle right now. Second, it's the flu. and it's not the first two days of it, so tamiflu or the like won't help. Three, I don't have a concussion. And so, I have nothing curable by meds. So . . . no moving vehicle for me, since it wouldn't do any good anyway.

p.p.s. I love my husband. He's been bringing me cold water and meds and soda crackers all day, while also taking care of the kids. Yay Adam! 


Matthew Green said...

Sorry you're knee-deep in suck. It sounds several steps beyond awful.

Couldn't help but take on your philosophical challenge, though. Guilt is a form of fear. Weakness is a source for fear to show up. So it makes some sense that exposed weakness might produce guilt. Guilt, however, involves someone's wrath potentially being invoked, so the interesting question I present is: whose wrath?

Susanne Dietze said...

Oh my goodness! You poor thing! Take care of yourself. That said, it's difficult for women to do that when there are children to care for. Glad to hear you're on the mend.

becca said...

Oh, Jess. I hope you feel better soon! I know you don't want to go to the doctor, but are you sure you didn't crack your skull?