Last week, a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away…. It’s a time out from the Empire’s worldly affairs as a renegade viral horde, striking from a hidden base, breaches this writer’s defenses, and runs amok throughout her body. Internal chaos ensues as the enemy overwhelms primary cognitive centers, clogs respiration and lays waste the musculo-skeletal infrastructure…. 

Timber!  The old bod crashed. I lay there, unable to move while the forces of good and evil battled it out with weapons of mass destruction: seismic sneezes, Vesuvial snot eruptions, chattering chills. 

Hubby, Son, patients, paperwork, taxes.... So what? Whether I lived or died, everyone and everything would go on without me. The relief was… an A-ha! moment. I slept like the dead for two days. 

On the third day, my mind began to clear, and tick over, albeit weakly: Oh come on. Get up. You can drive to the post office. If you don’t mail those birthday gifts today, they’ll be late.

My body just lay there. 

My mind push-push-pushed: Let’s go! Those gifts! They'll be late!

My body just lay there.

I— my real Self, not my mind— had a second A-ha! moment:

I’M SICK. GIVE IT A BREAK. WHY PUSH? IT’S UNNECESSARY. IT’S DRAINING. IT’LL UNDERMINE RECOVERY.

I flashed back to the residency, when I worked for a week (including being on call) with a fever of a hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit and walking pneumonia. It wasn’t an option to call in sick, so I didn’t. I was what, thirty-three? Would I do that now? Hell, no. It was idiotic then. It would take years off my life now.  

That settled it. I resolved to support the troops in expelling the alien menace. I prepared a spaghetti pot of ginger lemon tea.

I kid you not, this stuff is so potent, one swallow and your Clark Kent white blood cells morph into SuperWBCs. Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive!  Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound! Haha! Run for your life, Phantom Menace! Or, better yet, swim. Straight to the bladder, please. 

I took a steaming cup to bed with me, cuddled up with the pooch and started a trash thriller. The experience was so luxurious, so hedonistic, so unbelievably comforting I— my real Self, not my mind— had a third A-ha! moment: 

WHAT AN OPPORTUNITY TO INDULGE ALL MY GUILTY PLEASURES WITHOUT GUILT!!  I'M SICK! I'M ALLOWED TO:

• BE UNPRODUCTIVE.
• BE UNAVAILABLE.
• ENJOY THE PEACE AND QUIET OF STAYING HOME ALONE.
• READ TRASH FICTION TILL MY EYEBALLS PEEL.
• LAY IN BED ALL DAY.
• NAP AT WILL. SLEEP TILL I WAKE UP, NO CLOCK.
• PUTTER AIMLESSLY.

FOR ONCE, DOING THE RIGHT THING IS THE FUN THING! 

So that’s what I did. For two divine days. Then the Empire struck back: Let’s go. Those gifts are late! I resisted, wanting a couple more, but alas, the old bod lives to serve. 

 

Ginger Lemon Tea 

• Put on a spaghetti pot of filtered water to boil.
• Peel and slice up a hand-sized piece of ginger. Add to boiling water.
• Reduce heat and simmer for an hour, with lid slightly off edge to concentrate the infusion. Turn off the heat.
• Wash and slice several lemons into thick coins. Toss the ends. Add the lemon slices to the standing ginger infusion.
• Add honey to taste. 
• Dilute to taste.
• Excellent hot, cold, diluted, sweet or not, however you like it!
• Stores for at least a week in fridge. 

To kick microbe butt, imbibe fresh and hot till your back teeth float. And then some.