Last week, a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away…. It’s a time out from the Empire’s worldly affairs as a renegade viral horde, striking from a hidden base, breaches this writer’s defenses, and runs amok throughout her body. Internal chaos ensues as the enemy overwhelms primary cognitive centers, clogs respiration and lays waste the musculo-skeletal infrastructure….
Timber! The old bod crashed. I lay there, unable to move while the forces of good and evil battled it out with weapons of mass destruction: seismic sneezes, Vesuvial snot eruptions, chattering chills.
Hubby, Son, patients, paperwork, taxes.... So what? Whether I lived or died, everyone and everything would go on without me. The relief was… an A-ha! moment. I slept like the dead for two days.
On the third day, my mind began to clear, and tick over, albeit weakly: Oh come on. Get up. You can drive to the post office. If you don’t mail those birthday gifts today, they’ll be late.
My body just lay there.
My mind push-push-pushed: Let’s go! Those gifts! They'll be late!
My body just lay there.
I— my real Self, not my mind— had a second A-ha! moment:
I’M SICK. GIVE IT A BREAK. WHY PUSH? IT’S UNNECESSARY. IT’S DRAINING. IT’LL UNDERMINE RECOVERY.
I flashed back to the residency, when I worked for a week (including being on call) with a fever of a hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit and walking pneumonia. It wasn’t an option to call in sick, so I didn’t. I was what, thirty-three? Would I do that now? Hell, no. It was idiotic then. It would take years off my life now.
That settled it. I resolved to support the troops in expelling the alien menace. I prepared a spaghetti pot of ginger lemon tea.
I kid you not, this stuff is so potent, one swallow and your Clark Kent white blood cells morph into SuperWBCs. Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! Haha! Run for your life, Phantom Menace! Or, better yet, swim. Straight to the bladder, please.
I took a steaming cup to bed with me, cuddled up with the pooch and started a trash thriller. The experience was so luxurious, so hedonistic, so unbelievably comforting I— my real Self, not my mind— had a third A-ha! moment:
WHAT AN OPPORTUNITY TO INDULGE ALL MY GUILTY PLEASURES WITHOUT GUILT!! I'M SICK! I'M ALLOWED TO:
- BE UNPRODUCTIVE.
- BE UNAVAILABLE.
- ENJOY THE PEACE AND QUIET OF STAYING HOME ALONE.
- READ TRASH FICTION TILL MY EYEBALLS PEEL.
- LAY IN BED ALL DAY.
- NAP AT WILL. SLEEP TILL I WAKE UP, NO CLOCK.
- PUTTER AIMLESSLY.
FOR ONCE, DOING THE RIGHT THING IS THE FUN THING!
So that’s what I did. For two divine days. Then the Empire struck back: Let’s go. Those gifts are late! I resisted, wanting a couple more, but alas, the old bod lives to serve.
Ginger Lemon Tea
- Put on a spaghetti pot of filtered water to boil.
- Peel and slice up a hand-sized piece of ginger. Add to boiling water.
- Reduce heat and simmer for an hour, with lid slightly off edge to concentrate the infusion. Turn off the heat.
- Wash and slice several lemons into thick coins. Toss the ends. Add the lemon slices to the standing ginger infusion.
- Add honey to taste.
- Dilute to taste.
- Excellent hot, cold, diluted, sweet or not, however you like it!
- Stores for at least a week in fridge.
To kick microbe butt, imbibe fresh and hot till your back teeth float. And then some.