I hear my husband Vic’s favorite words when he felt pounded by life. “Sometimes you’re the hammer. Sometimes you’re the anvil.” This week I was the anvil being hammered by viral bronchitis, but I’m not alone and know others going through much harder times. I have friends and sons encouraging and supporting me. I don’t have Covid and my life is not in obvious danger.
My local son Anthony spent a long early morning sitting near me in the hospital room while I was tested and questioned and checked over. Then there were tests to open the airways. After three hours, Anthony drove me home, stopping to get my new prescriptions. I felt blasted tired the rest of the day, so forgive me if you find errors.
My mantra in these times is, “I’m not in Gaza or Ukraine.” I have friends with terrible disgnoses and some don’t make it through. I came away with you’ll be OK, but it might take a few weeks or a month. Hydrate and be grateful for a coming recovery and warmer weather. Be grateful for a warm house and ingredients for soup and a dog who doesn’t need lots of exercise in cold weather.
This is the first time I’ve been seriously sick through the pandemic. I always wear a mask, so who knows how I got this viral infection? All I can do is accept the lessons with gratitude.
With thanks to my local son Anthony who took care of me on this journey, and thanks to my North Carolina son and his dear friend Nurse Jody who pushed me to go to the ER before I got sicker. I thank Schuyler Hospital, my local small hospital, for getting me in and out as fast as possible with kindness.
It may take time to recover but I hope to learn something from this beyond facing how impatient I get when my plans are interrupted and how I resist asking for help. Or how afraid I get when I think I’ll lose more hearing. For now, I hope the cough quiets so I can get a good night’s sleep.
I hope to write something more enticing when I feel better, but it will have to wait.
Sending love, good health and peace to all.