Powering through being sick

August 18, 2007

flu_boy.gifOn Monday I had a nasty onslaught of flu. My muscles were sore and my skin ached all over. Seemed like flu. But I had a busy week. I canceled my appointments on Monday, but decided to just live on Tylenol Severe Flu medication all week — which worked, until about Friday. I had 3 hours of rather intense meetings in the morning, and then I drove Peter and Armin around the Westside to look at neighborhoods where they are considering buying a home. And despite that I had a snazzy new suit on, thinking I looked good, Peter said I looked like death warmed over and that I should just go home and go to bed, I refused and powered through taking them on a quickie tour of Palms, Mar Vista, Culver City, and parts of Santa Monica and West LA. After dropping them off, I drove home and collapsed. We had a party that night, but I had to just stay in bed. So many of my friends were over and I had to resist popping another Tylenol Flu pill and powering through it, and visiting with them all. And today, I have a barbeque with friends and colleagues that I’ve been looking forward to for some time, and I’m afraid I should just stay in bed. Still dizzy, achey, but my mind is still going. So I’m going to make myself stop this blog right now, and go back to bed.

Some people just don’t know how to stop.

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Brad Wood August 20, 2007 at 8:38 am

A while back I realized that I would create an illness sometimes just to have an excuse to take a break. This insight hit me when the symptoms of a cold were coming on, and in addition to thinking “damn I’m getting a bloody cold” there was a small voice that said “well now at least you can get some rest”. I was happy when I acknowledged that pattern and decided it wasn’t what I wanted to do. It seems as if I get fewer colds since that revelation.

My late father, when I was young, used to insist that one should get out and go to school or work regardless. I could be horribly congested and running a fever and he would say “Well, you’re going to feel lousy whatever you do so you might as well go to school [or work]”. Yes George.

When I was no longer young I was talking to him on the phone and I had considerable and quite audible chest congestion. Evidently he’d been reading a bit, as well as developing a keener sense of his own mortality, and urged me to see a doctor! When I probed this remarkable change and reminded him of his old philosophy, it came out, although not quite in so many words, that he thought I might have AIDS. He seemed somewhat reassured when I told him that would be extremely unlikely.

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