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Out To Pastor
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 its 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.
Once I get better, and that will be TOMORROW, I will be cautious about how I use my energy. I’m going to find some way to put a little bit of energy every day into some kind of savings account to use later. I’m not sure how that works, but I’m going to take the time I have getting better trying to figure out how I can do that.
There could be a good side to all of this sickness nonsense. Once I get better and return to normal life, I could use the experience for my own benefit.
For example, when The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage asks me to do something I’m not very anxious about, I can say, “Oh, boy. I’m starting to feel dizzy right now?”
Then, she will feel sorry for me, lead me to my chair and help me sit down. I’m not sure how long I can play this violin, but I will play it as long as I can.
Someone once said that there is a rainbow after every storm. I guess this is my rainbow.
A verse of scripture came to mind as I thought about being sick. “Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much” (James 5:16).
Prayer is the solution to every problem, even my health.
