On Sunday, I lectored at my local parish for the evening Mass. It was weird getting up at the same time, and doing my hair, but putting on regular clothes and going about the business of my day. I was paranoid all afternoon that I’d accidentally forget and miss Mass, simultaneously shirking my lector responsibilities. Around midafternoon, my throat started to get a little scratchy, but I get sore throats fairly often, so I didn’t worry. Much. More than usual.
Mass went fine. I got several compliments for lectoring, which happens pretty frequently. I maintain that it’s the Holy Spirit that gave me the gift to read the words he inspired. All I do is transfer the words on the page into something people receive more easily by ear.
After Mass, I came home and had dinner, which included McShane on his way back to ACE Gump. After dinner, I stood up and wondered, “Why does my right leg ache?” The left one’s the bad one. “And my arms…and back–oh, no, I’m sick.” Sure enough, I was running a fever by 9:00. I worked through part of it, concluding that if I recovered overnight, I would still need to be at least partly planned for Monday, if not the whole week.
Monday morning, I was so sick I made it out of bed only long enough to email work for my students to the principal. I slept until nearly 1 p.m., interrupted by a phone call from my vice-principal (he needed to confirm that my lack of presence meant I would be absent) and from my awesome Carpool Buddy checking on me. Unfortunately, falling ill that day meant I had to miss dinner with nuns. I love nuns (and free food), so I was bummed and lonely, but they did invite me to spend spring break with them.
By Monday evening, I was convinced that I’d need just one more day to recover, so I emailed in more work. The first email got a “hope you feel better soon” in reply. The second got nothing. I’m not sure the message was ever passed along. I spent Tuesday coughing, mostly, culminating in a two-hour coughfest while I tried to sleep. I had to get out of bed to take some medicine so I would quit hacking.
This morning, against my better judgment, I got dressed and drove to work. My kids were glad to see me, except when they kept trying to hug me. I warned them, “I’m still sick. Don’t make me angry–I’ll cough on you!” I only sort of meant it. It was a long, long day, but my clear misery and germiness convinced the principal to make accommodations for me tomorrow.
After the last bell, I was out of there like a flash. I still felt terrible, but I managed the drive home…until the driver in front of me slammed on his brakes and I slammed into him. Long story short, there were three cars, but mine was the smallest, so I got the most damage. Physically, I’m okay. I cut my lip, both knees are bruised, and I’m still sick. My amazing housemates came to meet me in the ER and stayed while I had x-rays and such, but aside from some hard bumps, there shouldn’t be any long-term damage.
And I am not going to work tomorrow.
