When you're sick it's as if the world moves in slow motion. There is no past, there is no future, there is only the present, moving at a staggeringly slow pace. Every hour seems to last forever, ever minute in suffering, ever how minute, seems endless.
When you feel normal things move along at a regular clip, breakfast, off to work, busy with responsibilities and the stuff of life. Then you get home and settle in for an evening routine. A regular day filled with routines that we settle into and can appreciate and enjoy.
When you are sick your entire routine is interrupted. The normal becomes broken up into pieces of irregular patterns of minutes, dragging by in an endless abyss of fog and loneliness. Loneliness in thinking, “will this ever end”. And with most incidents of illness it does indeed end, and health comes back full throttle and we forget the sickness ever happened.
But in the midst of feeling bad we feel as if eternity has set up camp in our body and waits, laughing at our misery as we dance the slow dance of puny bodies wearing thin in a world full of sickness and disease only to be ultimately consummated by death.
Illness leaving the body is a wonderful thing, like sweet tangerines being crushed in the palm of your hands and the juices running away. The scent of wellness is fresh and sweet but it can never come soon enough.