I went to the doctor yesterday thinking that I had the flu. In 40 years of life, last year was the first time that I had ever had the flu. I honestly didn’t know that a person could feel so miserable. Now, I’m not a wimp when it comes to pain, but the flu took me out for a solid week. It was brutal. I ached all over and couldn’t get comfortable while sitting or laying down.
Turns out, my flu test was negative but my strep test was positive. I knew that my immune system was down from having driven all night long last week. Last Friday I spent the day at my son’s school, surrounded by little germ carriers. Not sure if that’s where I got it, but I’m sure it didn’t help.
When we get sick, it’s usually our body’s way of telling us to slow down. Maybe we’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Maybe we haven’t given ourselves adequate time to rest and recharge. Either way, it seems that when we refuse to slow down, our bodies force us to slow down by allowing us to get sick.
I was just lamenting to my wife last week about the busyness of this Fall. We have been running and running and running with no rest in sight. Looks like my frustrations have been realized more as now I’m sidelined by sickness.
It always seems that sickness comes at the most inopportune time as well. Too many things scheduled for this week and now I’ve got to try to figure out how to get to them all in the midst of feeling crummy.
Pushing through it only makes things worse and the positive side to all of this is that I am on antibiotics, thankfully. I try not to go on antibiotics if I can help it, but there are just sometimes where you’ve got to bite the bullet. Here’s one of those times.
So, to welcome the start of the World Series, I am sick. The games will go on and I can read the box score in the morning. Yup, I hate being sick.