This weekend Chris and I prepared for my annual birthday retreat...a rustic cabin in the woods of West Virginia complete with a fireplace, screened in porch, and hot tub. We typically spend this weekend eating great food, playing games, and partaking of, ahem, grown-up beverages. We listen to our own music, do whatever we feel like, and did I mention I don't do a bit of cooking or cleaning up? It is my birthday and I have a husband who pampers. I am lucky.
But this year, my good luck got bad. Real bad. Two days before we were scheduled to leave, a little friend stopped by for a visit. I had never met him before. His name was Campylobacter and he nestled his way into my intestines and stayed for five days. He was a bacteria and I didn't ask him to come and want to curse the person or thing that brought him to me. That is not a Christian thing to say.
Let me paint a visual if I can. For a total of four days I had symptoms including abdominal cramping, diarrhea, aches, teeth chattering chills, and fevers reaching 103 degrees. Absolutely nothing stayed inside my body. My head hurt so bad I was pretty sure my new friend had somehow multiplied and was feasting on my brain. I laid on the couch for so long my hair was beginning to form dreadlocks. It rocked me. I looked hot.
Now it is Sunday and what we are supposed to be doing is driving home rejuvenated. Instead I am slowly putting real food back into my body which is trying very hard to be grateful but is still rejecting some of it. My energy is slowly coming back.
The good thing about this bad thing is that I had my three rocks to support me. My daughter to ask things like, Mommy you need a binky? My husband, to bring me everything I needed, dress me, and cook for the people who could eat. And my mother, who gave Isis the weekend of her life while Daddy was busy taking care of Mommy. I have a family who pampers me. I am lucky, even when I'm not.
3 comments:
Oh, Beck. I am so sorry. That sounds just awful. I hope you get to reschedule your weekend soon (don't tell your little friend when you are going, though).
Sucks. Wondered why you didn't text me back the other day. How did you figure out what it's called? I will pray Chris and Isis don't get it. Don't call it friend. It's the devil. But apparently your body needed some cleansing.
I smile....you call it "luck". I call it "blessed", and that's what I am every time I read one of your fascinating writings. My weekend with you all was a pleasure and I'm soooo thankful you are better!!
Love,
Mama
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