Sitting at home on a Saturday night while slurping on a grape Popsicle might not sound like thrilling good times to most people. But, as I've been at home since Tuesday evening last week with food poisoning (I hope), this is a good day on what has been many days of recovery.
Working on a kitchen remodel (my first) over the past several months has had it's own trials an tribulations, so much in fact that I've cut back on going out and spending money on other usual must-have items. But I digress. More on the remodel in another blog post.
It always seems that when you are at your most productive, or perhaps stressed out and just don't know it, life seems to throw you a curve ball that says "ya need to slow down just a bit." My curve ball arrived Tuesday afternoon. Work had been going well, I'd been working on compiling monthly training reports which I enjoy, along with helping other staff members coordinate logistics for a company off-site beach picnic as well as an all-hands staff meeting. Lunch on Tuesday went fine, ended up going to my usual lunch spot, ordering a chicken salad sandwich, no mayo, with lettuce and tomato, a dash or two of salt and pepper, and a slice of Havarti cheese. Came back to my office for some alone time, shut the door, ate the sandwich while reading the New York Times online. Later in the afternoon, I felt a little off, not really sure what was the problem, or actually realizing that there really wasn't anything wrong or a problem. Went home for the day as usual, and the adventure began.
There's a saying in one of the Harry Potter movies which mentions "better out than in" and luckily I did not become the victim of rampant vomiting or other explosive situations but felt simply ghastly. Didn't sleep well at all that night and in fact was up by 1:30 a.m. tossing and turning in bed, while also making a few stops in the bathroom for good measure. Then came the moment when I had to decide whether I was going into work or not. The bus commute would have been impossible at nearly an hour and fifteen minutes, so called in sick. Doctor's office on Wednesday where necessary samples were requested and provided. Still waiting on the results to see if I might have a nasty parasite rather than just food poisoning. Yuck!
Having little food in the house suitable for the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, apple sauce, and toast)that my my Judy had always put me on in these situations, I managed a short trip to Walgreen's to pick up my favorite fruit punch Gatorade, saltine crackers and some chicken broth. Thankfully, by Thursday, I'd remembered that Safeway delivered, so placed and order which thankfully arrived a few hours later as I had a hankering for some orange Popsicles.
I've ended up staying at home most of the week, and today, Saturday, was the first day I've felt like myself in almost a week. Life as a moaning gastric recluse presents it's own challenges and thoughts. Like, "Will I ever get better?" or "Why hasn't anyone called me yet?" Fortunately, I've got several great friends and family, so one wall post on Facebook sent the network into overdrive and had the texts and phone calls coming in to see if there was anything I needed. Of course, I'm grateful for feeling better, but when you're laying in a bed for a couple of days, alone, crampy, sleep-deprived, seemingly starving, you listen to the sounds of the world outside your windows and realize that the world is still going on around you. And even after you die, it still will. So has this week taught me anything? Well, I do need to get more sleep, eat less chicken salad, and appreciate what I've got going on right now. Because you never know when things can change.
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