Bill has been sick. He has been sick since Tuesday evening, doubled over in abdominal pain, lying awake all night, taking medication that works for Only Just So Long, eating something for his hunger and then wishing he hadn’t.
Bill doesn’t get sick very often. When he does, he tends to soldier on and work through it. Occasionally, if it’s very bad, he’ll sleep for a long time and then soldier on and work through it. But mostly he’s never sick.
Oh, what a five days it’s been! Mostly he’s been in bed, working, when he can, with his laptop on his lap. Often he has ventured downstairs for some part of the day, but mostly he hasn’t even been well enough to watch t.v. or (gasp!) play X-Box or– and this has been the hardest part for me– have a decent conversation.
And of all weeks Ever, I have needed Decent Conversation.
Yesterday he was well enough to actually do an errand or two for me and, while he was out, he bought himself some Grape Nuts.
This he has been able to eat. This he has been able to enjoy. This, he says, makes him feel better.
He has seemed much more himself today. He has played X-Box. He has eaten a variety of things (including Grape Nuts). And, not an hour ago, he stood in the living room and danced a little dance and sang a few lines from Meatloaf.
Ah, the healing powers of Time, and Medication, and, it must be said, Grape Nuts. And, of course, the healing joy of the Steelers going to the Super Bowl.
Everything’s going to be all right.
