This flu/pneumonia/plague virus I've been incubating for weeks will not go away completely. I spent two weekends sleeping and watching marathons of Doctor Who and the Gilmore Girls with the odd episode of True Blood sprinkled in. During the week, i tried to work but it was such a joke since I had little energy and no focus and couldn't talk on conference calls. The 'inability to talk' has been nearly catastrophic for my work. It seems that finally my voice is coming back. At first, I could make words, but sounded like I had a four-pack a day cigarette habit. My voice seems to be fairly normal now with the sporadic gravel tossed in for a fun reminder.
For a while, I lost my appetite. It is back again and everything tastes good and sounds good and there's a possibility I may eat this blog.....but not the whole blog. Now I become full so quickly that I can't finish a meal.
But, yes, it seems I'm improving.
All of this sickness has put a few things in perspective.
When my dad was ill with emphysema (as a result of smoking menthols for 40 years), he rarely complained. Talking took too much effort. So instead, he just disappeared. I noticed that he didn't eat much, and when I asked about it, he said it made him really tired to eat. I didn't get that. Until now.
I'm sure my lung capacity during this flu was not nearly as devastated as his was, but now, I have a taste of what he went through. When I had to focus on breathing.....when eating had no reward and just made me tired......when the act of talking at all was just too taxing: all I wanted was to retreat. I didn't want people around or to have to focus.
I'm sure breathing will be another thing I take for granted, and soon. But for a few brief days, I couldn't even get enough air to make a sneeze. Coughing was suffocating. There's a Bareilles song I love that has this soul-aching lyric: "All I have, all I need, is the air that I would kill to breathe." Never did those words ring more literal than these past weeks.
I'm not one to wallow in sickness or look for sympathy or pity. The world does not stop just because I don't have enough energy to function. I tried to keep on keeping on during all of this, but I'd be a total liar if I said it was easy. And I'd also be a liar if I said I didn't want more help during that time. My isolation wasn't just because I was sick, but more because I don't really have any local people on whom I can rely. It was a bit jarring (and quite telling) when I realized that someone I trusted looked to me for help with silly errands (which I did not oblige) when I was barely able to function.
So, during this time of unfortunate flu, I realized what I really need vs. things I want. I expect some life changes will come as a result....although I'm not ready to go into detail on them just yet.
And last, but certainly not least of the revelations: I am so dependent on my voice. When one works remotely, the phone line is how working relationships are built. I honestly think that the communication isn't just the words but how they are said, and that my voice, for whatever reason of tone or pitch or accent or something, has some sort of appeal to some people. Colleagues have made remarks about it over the years, but one I remember in particular said that he felt my successes were directly related to my 'soft-spoken tenacity' (which I think makes my Native-American name "stubborn with a whisper").
It's not something I work to achieve or into which I put special effort. I just talk how I talk. Except that for about two-three weeks, I couldn't talk. And when I could, it was not like usual. The impact was obvious. It was commented on constantly. My inability to communicate the way I wanted, especially during an executive high-focus on some of my work, was so debilitating. Nobody wanted to interact, and yet there were things to be done. I felt like a leper that wandered into the market place for basic necessities.
Of course, it was a flu virus, so I'm not really sure there's any action I can take from this except perhaps to consume more lemon-honey-tea.
The main conclusion is that I am grateful for my voice when it works properly, and I need to not lose sight of that gratitude. It is important to not take the most basic things for granted: like breathing and the taste of food and actual hunger and to go 24-hours straight without a fever. Maybe I needed a kick to remind me of that.
Perspectives refreshed. Rebooted. Off we go again.
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