You know that scratchy sore throat, which tells you that getting really sick is imminent? Yeah, well he arrived mid-day on Thursday. By Friday, I sounded like a man (and was in fact mistaken for M when I answered my own phone! Thanks Brian. :)) It got progressively worse Friday and into Saturday recruiting its friends congestion, cough, and fever. All the while, we were celebrating M's golden birthday. With my loins girded, fresh courage I took and ice skated with a fever of 101. Courage or stupidity? I'm not sure. My arm was by no means being twisted. I wanted M to have a terrific birthday celebration. Plus, I own my very own figure skates. How could I pass up the opportunity to don those beauties? And it was fun! Today, however, I stayed home from Church, still nursing my fever (along with a host of other awful symptoms that no meds or herbal remedies seem to touch). And I'm contemplating not going into work tomorrow. Ugh. I hate being sick. I do have to count my many blessings because I haven't been really sick for long time. So I can't really complain.
But can't I complain a little? Being sick as an adult is no fun. You don't really have anyone to take care of you and bring you chicken broth or tea or just wait on you like Mom would. No sick girl presents. No refills on your bedside glass of water. No wet washcloth to break your fever. But why should I mourn or think my lot is hard? When the coughing rages high, I feel no arm around me thrust. But every storm goes rolling by, when I repose in Him my trust. I may not have anyone to physically take care of me when I'm sick, but at least I know Heavenly Father's got me covered. All is well! All is well!