Sick
Sickness brought to you by Bekah's immune system.
Poem brought to you by Shel Silverstein.
And images brought to you by George Lucas and Walt Disney.
I'm sitting in bed sneezing my brains out and watching movies. Yesterday I went to Aerofit on Villa Maria to swim. It was the first time for me to go there instead of the Bryan Aquatic Center because it was raining, I had to find an indoor swimming pool. And when I arrived I felt like I was in an Thriller/Alias sort of movie... where I was the spy and I got to go to all the coolest country clubs, underground hotspots, you know what I"m talking about. Walk down the steps and you arrive at the pool that is surrounded by glass windows. And I was the only person besides this really old man doing laps. I had a key for my locker and I was thinking that if the pool were super busy, I could sneak something into my locker like the plans for the Death Star.
Something good and secret you know.
And then when I was swimming laps I could hide the key in my hand and "accidentally" drop it in the lane beside me while I was swimming. And then the person in the lane next to me could pick up the key in the water, get out and go get the secret plans.
And no one would ever know!
And then we would foil the evil Emperor Palpatine!
Instead I just swam laps.
And it was the best swim ever.
I had so much endurance.
I"m learning how to keep a steady pace, breathe evenly and pace myself. And so I don't max out and run out of energy quickly.
I glide.
And I'm gradually getting faster.
Its incredibly peaceful.
Of course I'm imagining what I would do if I worked for the CIA, but in spite of that I still glide through the water. And somehow I did 16 laps at 50 yards? each. And then time caught up. I had promised Kelly I would watch a movie with her at 2pm. Alas, it was time to go. But I could have swam 10 more laps easily.
So I left the eerie square complex of glass and headed home. Kelly, Cassie-the-Payne, and I watched the old Parent Trap.
Don't pay me any mind. I just keep my nose out of it. I don't say a word, not a single word.
As we sat on the couch my body started yelling at me. At first it was soft and then it became much louder to where I couldn't ignore it. And it was not yelling at me because of swimming.
But I marched on, in hopes to get ready and dressed for church at 6 and prayer at 5.
My body screamed in protest.
It was very adamant.
All of it.
Finally, I succumbed to its cries and admitted defeat.
I was sick.
Blast!
I NEVER get "sick".
I'm always the last surviving partier who spectates while everyone suffers in the trenches of this season's illness.
Not this time. This year I'm a trend-starter. I'm the winner of the F.L.U gameshow.
And yes, my body hates me with a flaming passion, and my temperature reflects that every 3 hours. But for being so useless, and missing so many anticipated events, I have a strange peace.
There is peace in knowing I have no control.
I will have to miss work tomorrow and I HATE that. But there is NOTHING I can do.
I do not have the power to will my body to speed up its germ killing process.
And so I have the freedom to sit and wait.
And I'm loving that!
Its my job to sit here and watch movies and nap.
Sure this isn't my first choice of a Sunday afternoon.
I would rather hang out and laugh and be with people, and get chores done.
But that would be in vain.
I might get even more sick and do everyone even less of favors.
So to satiate your need for a drama... I give you a poem by Shel Silverstein...
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
Poem brought to you by Shel Silverstein.
And images brought to you by George Lucas and Walt Disney.
I'm sitting in bed sneezing my brains out and watching movies. Yesterday I went to Aerofit on Villa Maria to swim. It was the first time for me to go there instead of the Bryan Aquatic Center because it was raining, I had to find an indoor swimming pool. And when I arrived I felt like I was in an Thriller/Alias sort of movie... where I was the spy and I got to go to all the coolest country clubs, underground hotspots, you know what I"m talking about. Walk down the steps and you arrive at the pool that is surrounded by glass windows. And I was the only person besides this really old man doing laps. I had a key for my locker and I was thinking that if the pool were super busy, I could sneak something into my locker like the plans for the Death Star.
Something good and secret you know.
And then when I was swimming laps I could hide the key in my hand and "accidentally" drop it in the lane beside me while I was swimming. And then the person in the lane next to me could pick up the key in the water, get out and go get the secret plans.
And no one would ever know!
And then we would foil the evil Emperor Palpatine!
Instead I just swam laps.
And it was the best swim ever.
I had so much endurance.
I"m learning how to keep a steady pace, breathe evenly and pace myself. And so I don't max out and run out of energy quickly.
I glide.
And I'm gradually getting faster.
Its incredibly peaceful.
Of course I'm imagining what I would do if I worked for the CIA, but in spite of that I still glide through the water. And somehow I did 16 laps at 50 yards? each. And then time caught up. I had promised Kelly I would watch a movie with her at 2pm. Alas, it was time to go. But I could have swam 10 more laps easily.
So I left the eerie square complex of glass and headed home. Kelly, Cassie-the-Payne, and I watched the old Parent Trap.
Don't pay me any mind. I just keep my nose out of it. I don't say a word, not a single word.
As we sat on the couch my body started yelling at me. At first it was soft and then it became much louder to where I couldn't ignore it. And it was not yelling at me because of swimming.
But I marched on, in hopes to get ready and dressed for church at 6 and prayer at 5.
My body screamed in protest.
It was very adamant.
All of it.
Finally, I succumbed to its cries and admitted defeat.
I was sick.
Blast!
I NEVER get "sick".
I'm always the last surviving partier who spectates while everyone suffers in the trenches of this season's illness.
Not this time. This year I'm a trend-starter. I'm the winner of the F.L.U gameshow.
And yes, my body hates me with a flaming passion, and my temperature reflects that every 3 hours. But for being so useless, and missing so many anticipated events, I have a strange peace.
There is peace in knowing I have no control.
I will have to miss work tomorrow and I HATE that. But there is NOTHING I can do.
I do not have the power to will my body to speed up its germ killing process.
And so I have the freedom to sit and wait.
And I'm loving that!
Its my job to sit here and watch movies and nap.
Sure this isn't my first choice of a Sunday afternoon.
I would rather hang out and laugh and be with people, and get chores done.
But that would be in vain.
I might get even more sick and do everyone even less of favors.
So to satiate your need for a drama... I give you a poem by Shel Silverstein...
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"
posted by bekah at
2:39 PM
1 Comments
