Fevers and Focus

Story ID:	2262
Written by:	Kristine L.
Story type:	Musings, Essays and Such
Location:	-- USA
Year:	2007

It’s good to be vertical. Especially after spending the last week flat on my back in bed, courtesy of a flu/respiratory virus that made Chinese water torture seem mild by comparison. One thing about an illness. There’s nothing like a nasty virus to slow you down and give you time to think and focus—whether you want to or not.

We Type A personalities don’t like slowing down. We have one speed: 90 mph with our hair on fire. Anything less seems slothful and snailish. We also tend to measure godliness with the dual “golden standard” of Punctuality and Efficiency. Plans set in concrete with the “flexibility” of rebar. We have all our “I’s” dotted, all our “Ts” crossed—in triplicate, ten years out. It’s amazing what happens to plans, calendar, and coordination when the Big Accomplishment of the Day is going two minutes without nerve-numbing nausea or a coughing spasm to wake The Dead.

Know what I found, lying there hacking my head off, tickling the thermometer at 102’? For one thing, I found that when life is reduced to bare minimums, bare minimums matter. A lot. Staring at the ceiling, I started a mental “Thank You List”. It’s amazing what you can thank God for if you slow down and focus (feverish or not): Chicken broth. Fluffed pillows. My eleven year-old volunteering to make breakfast. Clean sheets. Sun pouring through the window. Ginger Ale. Books on tape. Hot water. Music.

It was music and my family that got me through the Week From Hell. I learned to appreciate both like I never did when I was healthy and well, dashing from one activity or duty to another like Andre Aggassi at Wimbledon. Wish I could say I spent the whole week meditating on the great hymns of the faith, or humming praise choruses. Naw. I listened to Andréa Bocelli, Italian tenor extraordinaire. I figure that the One who invented beauty enjoys a breathtaking Puccini aria or a romantic “Amore” as much as the rest of us. Music must be a melodious window into heaven.

I also learned something else from being “shut in” and confined to bed for a week. It’s humiliating. You see, I’m a do-er. Busy, busy, busy. As one who’s rarely sick, I figure that any day I haven’t completed two or three dozen projects and planned twenty more is a “waste.” There’s nothing like being flat on your back for a week to take the wind out of that sail! I mean, I couldn’t do Jack! No committee meetings to chair, no lessons to plan or teach, no dishes, meals, menus or multi-tasking. Even my hair hurt.

Worse than not being up and doing, active, I felt like I was failing my family. When I had to lean over a basin, too weak to stand, and let my seven year-old wash my hair, I choked on every Punctual and Efficient bone in my body! And “humbling” doesn’t come close to describing my feelings when my husband, Lord love him, spoon-fed me chicken soup. Too sick to sit up, I felt infantile and helpless. Later, I couldn’t help but wonder how those with chronic illnesses or permanent disabilities must feel. And what incredible God-sends committed care-givers are.

Lying in bed, it dawned on me that being strong and healthy is a gift I take for granted far too often. I also found things to be thankful for that I hadn’t seen before. I saw that it takes a special grace to allow others to care for me. And those who are ill or infirm? Are they any less valuable than those who are healthy and strong? In some cases, I wonder if the former aren’t moreso: “For whenever you did it unto the least of these, my brethren, you did it unto Me.”

Now THAT'S a focus worth remembering!