The natural after-effect of a crash and burn is often illness, and my meltdown of several days ago has resulted in wheezing, a horrendous cough that suggests nothing so much as lungs being forced into an upward trajectory for deliverance on an innocent world.
I should have seen this coming; in Traditional Chinese Medicine the health of the lungs can be affected by the emotion of sadness, and of course we have been in much sadness, lately.
So, I gasped my way through Christmas Eve Mass, careful not to shake hands with anyone, and sat away from my family, refusing kisses and hugs – which I sorely missed. This morning the exchange of gifts was a little quieter than usual, as everyone seemed enthralled by the pop and wheeze eminating from my chest area.
Even worse, I didn’t get to see my brother, S, and share Christmas Day with him, or to see all the family members gathered at the hospice.
It sucked. BIGTIME, as Dick Cheney would say. While my family went a-visting, I slept a lot, and hacked a lot. My dog, who always seems to stick right by my side when I am ill, finally gave up and went into another room so she could sleep. And now, I am awake at an ungodly hour, of course, drinking the hot toddy I just taught my elder son to make.
Instead of feeling sorry for myself – because really, my life is good – I am trying very hard to pray, to connect myself with S and all others, throughout the world, who are spending Christmas in some sort of illness, or without a way to get a hug. While I am in no way suffering the way others are, I will say the throbbing head, the heavy chest, the choking, the watery eyes and the general sort of disgustingness of my person may certainly be inflicting some suffering on my immediately family who must listen to it all (and my whining) and still be nice!
I hope you all had a splendid, healthy and joyful Christmas Day. Really, I do.