Hurrying To Rest

There is a certain impatience and helplessness to being sick. Becoming sick is a way for our bodies to tell us we’re doing too much and not taking care of ourselves. The key message to me is: slow down, relax, and rest a while. Usually I try not to do much and comfort my colds with Lucky Charms and magazines.

A cold attacked me the week before Thanksgiving. I wasn’t worried. I'm not sick very often, and when I am it passes fairly quickly. I could sense I wasn't well enough to go to work and stayed home in my favorite pajamas. Colds only go away when you're in pajamas. Colds hate business clothes and will do everything possible to get out of them. I stayed home, yes, but I didn't stop working. I thought the illness might be allergies and franticly tore all the blankets and sheets off the bed. I rushed around like a mad woman, working harder than I do at my paying job. I drank 5 cups of Echinacea tea and took handfuls of vitamins. Somehow it didn't occur to me that I was working. Perhaps I was trying to outdistance the cold? My energy lasted until about 1PM. My bed was naked, but at least the reasonable part of me had washed the sheets first. I tore them out of the dryer and quickly dressed my bed so I could nap.

I was hurrying to rest; a demented oxymoron that materialized the previous day when I was pulled over for speeding in my neighborhood. I had left early from work to go home to rest, and in my hurry to rest I was reminded by a nice officer and a yellow speeding ticket to slow down!

I hadn’t learned the lesson yet, because I stayed up far past my waking energy level watching unnecessary vaguely interesting TV shows. When I finally put my head down on the pillow I was drenched with insomnia.

The next day I was amazed to find I was worse! Huh? I was confused. I stayed home from work again, but continued to rush around. Even though I was "off" work, I still included an important conference call and an appointment an hour away that required getting out of my pajamas and into my car. I committed to another phone conference and then later came to my senses and cancelled it. I rested for 30 minutes the whole day and had the same annoying visit from the Insomnia Fairy again that night.

Wednesday morning. I'd promised my team that I would be back at work, but I felt no better than the previous days. My rational mind took over and I called in saying I'd be in after lunch. I made one cup of tea, got back into bed, and read magazines. I didn't hurry, I didn't rush, and I didn't WORK. My rational mind sword-fought the guilt as I rested. It finally got through my thick head what I've preached for so long: To cure a cold, you need pajamas, a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a pile of magazines. Nothing else.

I did return to work that afternoon, slowly getting ready and wearing comfy low maintenance clothes. My cold had nearly evaporated.

Recently I remembered this story as I found myself with the familiar aches foreshadowing the onset of another cold. I didn't recognize it at first - my shoulders and back ached and I reasoned it was from carrying my heavy backpack. Nor did I recognize it when my rear molars started to ache and I started fearing cavities. It was only when I started getting really tired at 8PM that the light came on. I was getting another cold - and I thought back to my pre-Thanksgiving cold and didn't try to deny it, didn't try to refute it. I said to myself, "Hallelujah! I'm sick and tomorrow I'm going to stay in bed all day!"

I went home and eased into my pajamas. I found new magazines. I thought about taking a bath, but it was far too much work. I settled under my down comforter instead. I was fast asleep in an hour with a heating pad easing the aches in my back.

I allowed myself to sleep for a heavenly 11 hours until my stomach grumbled. I woke up with just a few little leftover aches. Now, it's after 3PM and I'm still in pajamas and feeling fabulous.