I roll over in bed and pull the covers over my head.
“I don’t want to be aliiiiiive” I groan. It is no longer under debate, I am sick. My body lost and the flu won. I’m running a mild fever, and I feel like I ran 300 marathons the night before. My head is pounding, and the pile of crumpled tissues by the bed continues to grow. Also, I’m definitely a drama queen when I get sick and not too proud to admit it.
I manage enough lucidity to type up an email to my boss telling him I won’t be in, and then I regress into my self-pity as I accept the fact that I’m going to be in bed for the larger part of the weekend.
Lila calls, her face fills up my phone screen and I swipe to answer and tap the loudspeaker button; I don’t have enough energy to hold the phone to my face. I’m sick, I croak…No work today. The conversation doesn’t last long; it’s obvious I don’t want to talk. I want to go back to dying miserably under the covers.
I doze off and when I come to it is noon-ish. Time to get up. I need to get some food in me to take something for the fever. After preparing myself mentally to get up for no less than 20 minutes, I muster up the energy to crawl out of bed. As I approach the living room I notice that Lila’s coat is hanging in the doorway. She’s here?
I step into the living room and there she is, sprawled on the couch and lost in a book. She looks up and smiles at me. Suddenly she’s off the couch and standing right in front of me…She kisses my forehead and puts her arms around me.
“I thought you might sleep through the whole day!”. With her arms about my shoulders, she guides me to the couch and sits me down. Seconds later there’s a tray across my lap holding toasted bread and a big bowl of home made chicken soup, a glass of water, and a box of Humex – flu medicine.
I have never felt so grateful for anything in my life as I did in that moment. I ate my soup and toast; and while my taste was impaired by my illness I can assure you it was the best soup I have ever had.
Once I was done, she removed the tray and pulled me off the couch. She wrapped her arms around me tight and pretended to carry me, and then in that same position she proceeded to walk backwards to the bedroom saying “don’t worry I won’t drop you” and smiling that big smile of hers. She set me down in bed, and tucked me in, then plopped down next to me with her book.
“Go back to sleep, you need your rest” she instructed, one hand pressing her book up against her folded knees as she read, and the other gently stroking my hair.
And I did as I was told, happy to comply, feeling so loved there was no room left inside me to feel sick.