January 17, 2024
The night passed more smoothly, and I woke up only twice, sneezing uncontrollably as my right eye leaked water from the intense itchiness in my face. I woke up to blow my nose, and I realized my nose was finally clear and I could breathe. My sinuses were so irritated, however, that the cool air was enough to trigger sneezes, as if my breath was a foreign object my body was trying to expel. I went back to bed, lying there, enjoying the ability to breathe through my nose once again. Before I fell back asleep, I felt each of my ears pop, sounding like the sickness releasing its clutches from my head. Something in my body was changing.
Although I felt tired when I woke up, I ached less and my energy felt better than the day before. My wife suggested I call in sick to work and give myself another day to recuperate. At first, I didn’t think it was necessary, but then I remembered how pushing myself too quickly had worsened my condition. Taking another day off sounded like an investment that would benefit me and my work.
Today was a day of rest and recovery. I still felt bad, but somehow letting go of my resistance against being sick made the day feel lighter. I have run into this phenomenon repeatedly in my life. When we resist that which is inevitable, we make the situation worse. Contrarily, if we learn to accept things as they are and loosen our grip on our need to control everything, then the whole situation is easier to manage. In this way, we often get in our own way to improvement, becoming a willing participant in exacerbating the problem we are trying to avoid or solve.
I spent the day taking things slowly. I read, wrote, and took several brief naps throughout the day. Slowing down and using the space I created by letting go of my fight against being ill made the day feel long in a way that provided me with the time I needed to heal. By the end of the day, I knew I’d be back at work the next day, and that taking one more day off was a wise decision.
A little before sunset, I took a short walk into the pine grove, spending a little quiet time alone before evening settled in. I did not feel cold, even in the below freezing temperatures, despite not having a lot of warm gear, which surprised me. I stayed out for about forty-five minutes, walking thought the grove from end to end, pacing myself, taking time to stop and view fallen trees, sprouted mushrooms, swirls in the pine needled floor made by squirrels, and the occasional signs of deer on the trail. Yesterday, when I went outside into the cold, my mind seemed frenzied, but today I felt calm. I suppose that’s the thing about being sick. When we are healthy, feeling good becomes the norm to where we cannot recognize and fully appreciate it. However, after recovering from an illness, we are once again able to fully appreciate the value of feeling well.
My evening was quiet. I wasn’t hungry, so I had some ramen noodles for dinner that I didn’t finish. I took some medicine and got into bed, ready to enjoy a good night’s sleep without pain, wheezing, and with minimal coughing. Falling asleep, I thought about how the greatest wealth a human being can experience amounts to a long, healthy life. This, I reminded myself, is why it is so important to be disciplined each day, to be careful about what we eat, to move our body, and to get plenty of sleep. I felt ready to return to work and resume the wonderful life I live.