Flu School...

I'm baaackk! After an inadvertent break, I am rejoining the world in 2013. 

I started the year in a stupor of illness and antibiotics and narcotics which left me unable to form complete sentences. I think I might have even drooled. I probably don't need to mention that being one of the zillions of people who caught the flu is not how I wanted to start my year. But I did.  And I promise the rest of this post won't be a long, whiny, sob story about how awful I felt.

Not all of it anyway.

I did feel awful. But, I mean, here it is mid-January and I've already learned a bunch of stuff from it. What is life if we aren't learning, right?

On a practical level, I learned that if you start coughing during a New Year's Eve matinee showing of Les Miserables, you should not assume that you are just having a sympathy reaction to all the people dying on-screen while belting out heartfelt songs just prior to leaving this earth. No, you should assume you are coming down with something. To all those who were sitting near me, I apologize. I thought I was relating to the characters.

Mostly I watched the whole movie in awe. I mean, yes, it was well done but really, I had a macabre fascination with the idea that these people were all dying but still able to hit a high E. Is that what dying well is all about? I decided I should think about singing on my deathbed. The timing on all this was good. Within a few days I truly thought I was dying.

I also learned that once you realize you are actually coming down with something and the world is in the midst of an influenza epidemic, you should not assume it is nothing. This would be the downside of being an optimist. You should go to a doctor. Had I done so, I could have taken Tamiflu, the miracle drug, and gotten over it much sooner. As it was, I waited until the window of Tamiflu opportunity had closed and the only thing left to do was suffer. And, having laryngitis meant I couldn't even sing on my deathbed.

While prior to seeing Les Miserables I hadn't ever considered singing and dying,  I have always envisioned myself as someone who, upon being diagnosed with a terminal illness, would live in a cloud of grace and gentleness. I'd lie in bed, serenely, dressed in a white, fluffy, gown. Glistening a little bit. I'd be someone who does all she can to make others around her feel comfortable about her impending death. Of course, recently I added singing to the scenario. I've always envisioned a charming death.

Fantasy.

If my behavior during  a bout of flu is any indication...well, let's just hope I don't have any lingering illnesses.

I complained. A lot. I whined even more. I learned that being sick does not bring out the best in me.

Nevertheless, I learned that I'm loved, even at my worst.

Despite my less than charming self, several friends faithfully checked in to see how I was doing. My mother even called several times to check on me and didn't even make it about herself! When I developed a secondary infection and my stomach was wrecked by antibiotics and my brain was addled by narcotics, my friend Debbie brought me a stack of novels to give me something to do when I wasn't sleeping. Working, writing, and thinking were out of the question.

When I couldn't pull together a celebration for Anna's 18th birthday, our whole family cheerfully cancelled original plans and pitched in to cook and clean and make her celebration at home special, after all.

And when my Christmas tree was still up long after 2013 was in full swing, Debbie came over, once again, to help me take it down.

That all may seem like ordinary stuff, but it wasn't. It was important stuff, and it let me know that I am loved no matter what.  Even while hacking, coughing, and whining I am lovable, if not pleasant.

So often we think we have to be or do something to make ourselves lovable. In much the same way singing on our deathbed is unrealistic, so is the idea we have to make ourselves lovable. We don't. We are lovable because people love us. We are lovable...just because we are.

It is good to be loved.

And healthy.