Home Sick: My Own Story

Once upon a time, when I was an elementary school librarian/media specialist, there was a Newberry Award Honor book entitled Homesick: My Own Story. I have borrowed the title, with a space between "home" and "sick" to fit my own purposes. Last night, I was home...and sick. *Yesterday, I was an eating machine. I started the day by finishing the Bob Evans mashed potatoes so I could take my morning pills. A little later, I finished off the Tyson meat loaf by making it into a sandwich. After that, I had two fairly large helpings of leftover cabbage, ham, and potatoes. Then, there was most of a tube of Club crackers and some creamed cheese that were calling to me. A bottle of caffeine-free Diet Pepsi. A few Hershey's kisses. All of this by noon. Just about the time I needed to be getting ready to drive to Monrovia to help with the radio club at my old school, I became aware that my belly was giving me little twinges of cramps. Then the diarrhea hit. It wasn't so bad at first, but it got progressively worse as the day went on. Needless to say, I didn't go to Monrovia. I decided to stick close to home and deal with the challenges. Horrible to say, but in the beginning of the discomfort, I was still looking for food. I had actually taken ingredients out of the pantry to make a macaroni and chicken casserole! In short order, I realized that I shouldn't be putting anything else in my stomach...and so the long evening/night began. Through the waves of cramps and trips to the bathroom, I felt better lying down. (Cramping always causes me to feel cold, so I huddled under the covers, fully dressed. It helped.) *Finally, by about 10:30 PM, the cramps and bathroom trips had slowed down, so I could doze. I sipped on some water and made it through the night. Whew! *I don't make a very good sick person. When I was a young kid, I think I enjoyed the Sympathy Factor because my well-being was somebody else's responsibility. As an adult, however, I just endure. I have adult friends who go to bed and stay down for days just with a nasty cold. I can't do that. Unless I'm in pain (which I was last night), I stay up and moving as best I can. I'm not sure what it is, but I'm not crazy about people fussing over me when I'm ill. I just wait to feel better again. Of course, the time will come when the illness from which I cannot recover will hit, but for now, I do what I do. *Why is that? I wish I knew! As a younger person, I would seek medical attention for this thing or that thing right away. Most of the time, doctors would give me the news that nothing was broken or seriously wrong, and I just needed to go home and take care of myself until I got better. Now, I do that FIRST. If I don't get better, THEN I seek medical attention. It's worked, so far. (Okay...well, perhaps I was a little foolish the night of my ruptured aneurysm, but I didn't feel good enough to get out of bed, much less leave the house to see a doctor! Thankfully, I survived!) Once upon a time, I had debilitating migraine headaches that nothing helped. Then they disappeared forever. I outgrew them. I look at things that way now. "I'll get past this. I usually do!" *So, here I am, the day after the heebie-jeebies hit. I am eating (lightly) and will take it easy for the day, but I feel okay. I am so thankful for that!!