I generally find it difficult to be grateful when I’m sick. This past week I’ve had a cold that metastasized into an inner ear infection. I (finally) listened to my sensible half (Greg) and went to the doctor. There’s few experiences quite like taking an eighth month old to a doctors’ office in the middle of what is supposed to be his nap time. But I got medicine, so it was worth it.
I have all of these things that I want to get done. I want to fix the bushes in front of my house. I want to replant my raised bed for fall. I want to decimate the thorny vine that is colonizing my azaleas. I want to bake and cook something elaborate. I want to play on the grass with my kid. I want to write about repainting our dining room.
What I am doing instead is taking it slow. Or as slow as I can. I keep thinking that I’m better, and then my ear closes up again or I get dizzy and I am reminded that it is stupid to not let myself heal. So I try to be still. Or as still as I can be.
But right now, I am enjoying my backyard after (sitting still) and grading my online class, and I feel grateful. That I have a husband who is wrangling the baby. That I have wifi and can work outside. That I’m currently employed in a way that lets me work outside. That the weather is nice. That I can start a Sunday crossword puzzle and eat my lunch.