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Isolation

So I have joined the non-envious group of those who have caught their personal share of the pandemic. That’s right, I joined Club COVID. 

Now, don’t worry. I’m not here to discuss whether or not we should wear masks, social distance, or isolate forever. I think you know better than to come to this blog for such weighty matters. 

Per usual, I’m here to share my thoughts, perhaps some feelings, and just maybe highlight something of importance. 

ALL BY MYSELF

First of all, from first symptoms to end of isolation, I’ve been in my room, alone, for roughly 482 days straight. The wife has slid some medicine underneath the door from time to time. The kids have adjusted to a one-parent household just a little too nicely. 

I can hear their laughter across the house, no doubt as they discuss how to divide my belongings. The joke’s on them. I am still in the process of applying a recent sermon from my pastor, so I have a lot of excess they’ll need to clean through. 

But there is something worse than feeling sick and isolated. It’s feeling better, and still being isolated. 

HOW WOULD YOU GREET DEATH?

We should talk about the illness for a moment. No matter what you think about the politics of this pandemic, the corona virus is a strand of the flu, which means for men, it will feel worse than any pregnancy pains a woman has ever felt. That’s just science.

So while I did not die (take that ‘Rona!) there were plenty of moments where I welcomed death. But between the semi-lucid points of agony and the torturous bits of sleep that were interrupted by spastic bouts of coughing, my wife would make an appearance.

Me (to myself): Why does she look angry?
Her: You haven’t drank any water since I last checked on you.
Me: That’s because of the 32 small swords currently penetrating my throat. Also my lack of a desire to live.
Her: If we have to take you to the hospital for dehydration, the medical bill is coming out of your Christmas list. 
Me: (lifeless whimpering)
Her (walking away): Drink more water. I know you’re not going to leave it on the kids to Christmas shop for me. 

Hello Death? You can pick me up any time now.

ACCEPTING HELP

I can verify about 68% of the conversations had with my wife during my illness. But as I recovered (thanks for nothing, Death), I did come to feel a swell of gratitude for her. 

After all, I was in isolation. I had access to my bed, a bathroom, and a TV my wife thought was mostly a waste. But it helped me fill a few isolated hours. 

What I did not have access to was any food or drink. Mind you, we have not had to wait on our kids for many years, so I was acutely aware that every time I needed something,..anything...it meant bothering my wife. 

Sure, she signed a covenant when we got married, but there is almost as much grace needed to receive as there is to give. It means accepting one’s helplessness. It’s a desperation that can only be met by another and received with gratitude. 

Sweet Jesus, is that what you wanted me to learn from this experience? Was this all just one more layer of my independence being peeled away? I might have preferred a note taped to a large rock, which was then repeatedly flung at my head, but I suppose this works too. 

What about you? What lessons do you take away from times of illness?
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R Swaim said…
I appreciate being healthy 😀
December 13, 2020 at 8:27 PM
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