Being Sick Is Ick

So Much For My Wonderful Weekend Plans

Photo by Navy Medicine on Unsplash

Not long after I hit publish on Friday’s post, I was hit by something else: a wave of exhaustion.

At first, I thought maybe I was just tired. It was a busy week, and sometimes the body demands an unscheduled afternoon off. But this felt different. Within a few hours, I had gone from mildly fatigued to completely wiped out.

The result was a weekend that looked nothing like the one I had planned.

For most of the past 48 hours, I have alternated between sleeping, running to the bathroom, staring blankly into space, and wondering how it was possible to feel both exhausted and restless at the same time.

Even now, I’m not quite back to normal. Better? Yes. Fully recovered? Not yet.

So today is a recovery day. Because nobody, especially me, wants to face a relapse.

One of the things I dislike most about being sick isn’t the symptoms themselves. It’s the way illness barges into your life and starts rearranging your schedule without your permission. Plans disappear. Projects get postponed. To-do lists stop moving. The calendar suddenly becomes a list of things you aren’t doing.

And while I don’t love being sick, I really don’t love canceling plans with friends.

I had been looking forward to seeing people this weekend. As I get older, I’ve come to appreciate that those opportunities are more valuable than I once realized. Time with friends doesn’t happen automatically. It requires schedules to align, invitations to be accepted, and everyone to show up.

So when I had to send those disappointing texts and say, “Sorry, I can’t make it,” I wasn’t thrilled.

The upside is that good friends understand.

Nobody demanded proof of my illness. Nobody accused me of faking it to get out of social obligations. They simply wished me well and told me to rest.

The truth is that I have a long history of trying to negotiate with being sick. I tell myself I’m feeling better than I actually am. I convince myself I can power through. I start doing normal activities too soon, only to discover that my body has very different opinions about my recovery timeline.

Experience has taught me that healing is one of those things that can’t be rushed by sheer force of will.

If you’re sick, you’re sick. The body gets the final vote.

So instead of trying to reclaim the weekend that got away, I’m accepting the reality of the situation. Plans can be rescheduled. Work can wait another day. And as for the rest of the world? It will continue spinning without my active participation for a day or three.

And with any luck, a little extra rest today means I’ll be back on my feet tomorrow instead of spending next weekend repeating this one.

Being sick is ick.

But learning when to stop and recover is probably a lesson worth relearning every now and then.

Thank you for being a friend!
Clint 🌈✌️

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