I've been sick for the past week or so. How sick is a matter of
opinion, but I didn't eat anything for three days, and I've coughed up
several different colors and thicknesses of phlegm, but I still can't
get whatever is hurting my chest out. I called in sick to work
yesterday, I went in today, and I cancelled plans to go to the city with
a bunch of girlfriends. I let a bunch of chicken feet turn in my
fridge because I didn't have the energy to cook them, I haven't been
writing, on Twitter much, or here. I'm not coughing much, I almost wish I
was because then I would be able to dislodge the voodoo slime in my
lungs, but so far productive coughs have been elusive. I've drunk
endless cups of tea, beef and chicken broth, I've gone through packages
of zinc lozenges, and I'm still really tired, but feeling a bit better
today.
Being sick has given me time to reflect and contemplate things. I'm
eternally grateful to the people who reached out to me, and who haven't
forgotten that I'm still around. Today I went to fetch the mail which is
a task I normally leave for the girls. Apart from bills, and the
occasional flier, I don't get a lot of interesting or exciting mail, so
my fingers trembled slightly when I saw my name on a card. At first I
thought it was a scam of some sort, where people make you think that
their mail is something other than junk because they took the time to
handwrite your name. That wasn't the case though, it was a
real postcard, addressed to me, and I could have cried in my driveway I
was so happy.
Many times I've read that you have everything you need to succeed.
After being sick, and forced to be resourceful, I believe that this
really is true. Not having money for the doctor, I turned to Google for
some natural home remedies. I stumbled across some lovely writing about
an onion poultice, drove to the store for two bags, and burned a red
rectangle into my chest after I left my hot water bottle on top of the
poultice. Strangely, my scarlet chest didn't hurt, and when I woke up
the next morning, the red had faded to pinkish streaks. By lunch the
next day the red was gone, and I felt well enough to get up and pour
soap into the dishwasher. I did my yoga DVD which was an absolute
Godsend, and has tremendously helped my breathing.
I want to be a person who lives the simple life. I made a batch of
onion syrup that I've been taking, and I'm really proud of myself for
not going to the doctor for antibiotics even though I'm sure there are
those who think I would be better by now if I had. On Monday I'm going
to see a physician who practices Traditional Chinese Medicine. The other
day I went back to the Vietnamese grocery store, I wanted to go to
Costco, but I ran out of time, and went to Trader Joe's instead. I could
write for a while about Trader Joe's, and why I believe it illustrates
much of what I dislike about the American economy, but after spending
much more than I had intended, I headed home to see my sister.
For many years my husband and I have not had a good marriage. We love
each other, but we disagree on several fundamental issues that are core
to both of us. We were looking for an apartment my father could move
into when my husband found some timeshare condos that are now being
sold. The price is fairly reasonable on several units, and when he said
he thought that he could afford to buy me one if he was able to borrow
down payment money, I didn't know what to think since sometimes he says
things, and doesn't follow through. I haven't seen anything yet, but he
sent an email to a realtor, and his dad said he could loan him money,
and since he and his wife recently moved, I can get some furniture they
don't need from them.
When I asked my husband if we were getting divorced, he didn't say
that we were, but he didn't say that we weren't either. When I made the
onion poultice, I was a pretty sick chick. I told him I needed help, and
asked if he would spread it on my back. Now I get that sticking your
hands in a warm onion paste and rubbing it on your wife's back in your
bedroom is unsexy, messy, and smelly if you don't care for onions, but I
was sick, and when you take marriage vows, the words sickness and
health are both there. I think I might have walking pneumonia, I'm not
sure, and I'm not going to go WebMD on people, but I was coughing up
blood one morning, and that's never a good thing.
I have several career options, and I'm not sure how any of this is
going to play out. I'm excited, scared, nervous, and I'm sure that being
on my own will be much more difficult in aspects I don't expect it to
be, but the other day I was ridiculously, deliriously happy when I
thought about having a one bedroom condo of my very own. I've cried a
couple times when I thought about not living with the girls, but I
watched my mother's psyche deteriorate when she lived with my verbally
abusive father, she has issues of her own that she hasn't dealt with,
and my aunt said that she thinks each of us having our own space will be
good for both of us. I don't hate him, I'm past that. I can't stand
living with my step-daughter, and things could be a lot worse, but she
could also move out instead of taking advantage of her father.
Being sick helped me learn new things that I wasn't aware of
previously. I can't blame him for my problems, I don't expect him to pay
my bills, but I am so grateful for this opportunity, and the things
I've had these past almost twenty years. Next year I'll be forty, and
that's not too old to start chasing dreams, and building new castles in
the sky. The things in life that I appreciate the most are things like
the Tiny Comic books that my daughter makes, the postcard my friend sent
me, and the friends that I have who are willing to talk to me when
there are things I want and need to share. I've learned to love deeply,
to abandon caution, and to be a better judge of character which I didn't
get was so vitally important in the past. I'd like to write a lot more,
and maybe I will another time.
Until then, please, be well.
Love you,
jess