In case anyone has any questions about it, I will clarify it for you here. Being sick is a waste of my time!
As I left work on Wednesday, I suddenly started to feel not so good. There was a rock, about the size of my fist, just sitting in my stomach. (In case the reader isn’t fully familiar with the anatomy of internal organs, that would put the discomfort right about the height of my ribs.) As I drove through town the discomfort got worse. I could feel pressure on my esophagus, as if something were pushing upwards. (Kind reader, do not despair, there will be nothing disgusting here and you can feel free to continue reading.) It hurt! Maybe some gum will help. Antacids would be better, but all I have is gum. Chew, chew, chew. I’m sure I looked like Bessie with her cud. I get to EGF and am now really feeling awful. I find I’ve shifted myself to the right side of my seat and have my left foot firmly planted on the floor, pressing down. I tilt the back of my seat back a bit. Anything to change positions and give more space to whatever is causing this distress. Finally, I’m on the highway.
I seemed to expect that the highway would give me relief like a big burp, but no luck. 30 minutes to go. I get 5 miles down and rethink my route. I need to be able to pull over at a moment’s notice and not cause traffic problems. Hwy 66 seems to be the place to be. I turn north and decided that I’ve had it. As I pulled over I unlocked my door and motored my seat back, ready to escape. A quick trip to the passenger side of the car with hopes of relief. Out goes the gum. I did feel a tish better standing, but not enough to bring me any happiness. I sit in the grass for a while, just wanting to either purge or sleep. I can’t sleep as Del would worry. I wish I could just call him and have him come to get me. But my phone battery is dead. I don’t mean a little dead, I mean “Positively, absolutely, undeniably and reliably dead.” How do I get myself into these situations?!
This was getting me nowhere and I was still 25 miles from home. Back into the car and drive. I don’t lock the doors and I don’t put my seat as far forward as I usually do. Drive.
I got about 5 more miles up the road and had to stop again. I’m never going to get home at this rate! A few minutes walking around and just standing in the wind and I come up with a plan. I will speed. I will get home as fast as I can. I even plan out my conversation with the cop when I get stopped.
“Please, write me all the tickets you like. But do you have any Rolaids, Tums or a box of baking soda? I’m going to lie down here on the side of the road and you may feel free to call my husband to come and get me. You can even write extra tickets, because at this point I don’t care. But in the words of Andy Griffith, ‘Just call the man.’”
The cost of any tickets I would have had to pay would feel a small consequence to not having to drive any more. My top speed was 80, but mostly I was hanging around 75.
By the time I got to Hwy 1 (only 6 miles to go.) I was making my pain coping noises. They are very animal-like and seem to disturb people who work in the medical field. I guess they’re a combination of humming and growling. But it works for me, so that is what I did. Counting down the miles as I drove, it seemed to take forever for the edge of town to arrive. 1 more mile to go. Past City Hall, High School and Elementary School, alley and then blissful 5th St. The trip that should have take 50 minutes took 70 minutes.
Into bed I go, chewing antacids on my way. I get up, manage to get out a little burp that was so dainty it reminded me of a April sneeze. That was my routine for the rest of the night.
Calling into work when you are sick is a real challenge. The brain doesn’t get all the needed blood as your body is busy trying to get itself to feel better. *Note to self, create a checklist of people to call and their extensions for when calling in sick.* I do succeed in calling in and go right back to bed. I sleep almost all day, and food has no value for me. Cats are allowed into bedroom to care for me. They are good kitties and do not rattle the blinds or put their butts into my face.
I wake up on Friday and decide to give it a try. I showered and put that nightshirt right back on again. Call in, back to bed. The cats are once again there, ensuring mom is not alone. I spent some time sitting in bed with the laptop, treading into the outside world. But not really. Back to sleep.
I slept for the majority of 2 days. Not my idea of a good use of my time. 20 hours of vacation, gone. What a waste.
