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.
No comments:
Post a Comment