Misery, thy name is Influenza.
There is a reason I have a bottle of hand sanitizer in every purse. With students whose sick season starts in August and ends in May, hand sanitizer is my elixir of life. Truly. Fevers are a taste of hell on earth. Fevers that hit when the septic tank outside my window has been opened for repairs make me wonder if certain death is imminent.
Let's just say it hasn't been my best weekend.
The bug hit hard and fast on Friday after I'd gotten a 2-hour deep tissue massage. By the time I got home I was shaking so hard and aching so deep I didn't know if I'd make it from the car to my house. But I made it. And when I walked in the door I realized I had no food (at least no food that didn't require lots of prep) and no water. The water in this place is undrinkable.
There is nothing that makes me want my mama more than the flu. But my mom's 1,000 miles away, and most of my friends live in south county, a good 40 minutes from me. Moreover, asking people for help is hard for me. I do so hate to inconvenience people. I do so like to be independent. But God does so likes to give me opportunities to learn grace. I figure the flu is one of these opportunities. So every time I woke that first night with the flu, I prayed that God would help me find someone close who was in town and could help me.
The next morning my friend Ellen responded to my text for help. An hour later she was at my front door with food — including fresh fruit she'd picked —, water, and sunflowers.
The flowers are a splash of sunshine against my almost aqua kitchen walls. The fresh oranges are a juicy, vitamin-C packed treat. Her help made me feel so cared for, so not alone, and so not like an inconvenience.
So, this post-Thanksgiving weekend, I'm thankful for my dear friend who ensured I wouldn't go hungry or get dehydrated, and who brought me living beauty to cheer my little apartment. She is a gem of a friend, and God is kind to bring yet another friend into my life to teach me grace.
© by scj