I am rarely sick. It is hard to admit that I am too sick for anything unless I am on the edge of consciousness, and someone else decides for me. It is difficult to trust my instincts.
In fact, when I began feeling rough on Saturday, I immediately ascribed it to the residual effects of a fun Friday night out with friends and eating sticky nuggs at Billy Jack’s too late at night. It certainly COULDN’T be the stomach bug that has been going around and had many of my students and some fellow teachers missing school or leaving early this past week.
No. Not that.
To make matters worse, Sunday was to be my return to singing on worship team after a hiatus of several months. I had been looking forward to this Sunday and after practice on Wednesday night, even more so. It was a great team, great set of songs, and I was excited.
Saturday I woke up feeling a little off.
Probably too much fun last night.
I don’t do fun well, and can’t just go with the flow and enjoy. I drank a cappuccino, but breakfast was not happening. Steve and I were out together at a coffee shop enjoying some quiet time to write and reflect. He got food. I didn’t but later nibbled a bit on a piece of croissant and smidge of donut. Clues much?
Heading home, my stomach began to churn.
Ugh. I am getting too old to eat sticky nuggs late at night!
Saturday was spent trying to coach myself through to the end, waiting to feel better. Certainly better was just around the bend. Once I take a nap, have a snack, get the shopping done.
Steve was worried about me.
You’re not doing well. You seem to be going downhill.
I’m fine. I just have to get through ____________________ fill in whatever was the next thing I needed to do and then I will feel better.
I didn’t feel better.
Before going to sleep, Steve expressed concern that I wasn’t listening to my body well and didn’t seem to be in a good place to be getting up at six in the morning to get ready for worship team. I was sure I would be feeling much better after rest.
I felt much worse.
Waking up, I knew that there was no way that I would be able to hoist myself up in front of a bunch of people to sing. I could barely walk across the floor of my room. Also, I didn’t think anyone would appreciate me bringing my upset stomach to share with them.
With great disappointment I texted the leader, who responded with kindness. I went back to sleep.
Sunday has been spent sabbathing, resting, listening to my body. It keeps yelling at me to get up and do something, but I haven’t cooperated. I have slept a lot, read a bit, written a bit, and watched Netflix.
Tomorrow will be better. I just know.