Special healing

Who doesn't want a break. Who doesn't need a break? How about a two week break? Sounds awesome. Well, I am at the tail end of my two week break and I feel terrible. I'm sure everyone would be asking why, but I guess, it's because two weeks is a long time to be on sick leave.

What started out innocuously as a small cough, blew out to me seeing the doctor with flu like symptoms and then waiting in a hospital emergency to see whether the current medical welfare could accommodate yet another patient according to their pneumonia severity index.

So here I am, hopefully on the road to recovery *fingers crossed*. I really don't recall being this sick before in my entire life. Waking up feeling as though one can't breathe is not a great feeling. Cold in the middle of the night, with coughing fits - hardly enough time to suck air into the lungs before another cough erupts. Fevers causing wild temperature fluctuations and headaches - which were exacerbated by blocked sinuses. To top it off, having a chest X-ray confirming pneumonia. Grrrrrreat....

That first week was barely bearable. Sleepless nights were mixed with uneventful days of just being around the house, quarantined at home keeping the 'fluids up'. Being ill is already a sorry state - looking after oneself is even worse. Cooking, cleaning up - all really take a backseat as one lacks the energy, but it all just ends in a vicious cycle. No cooking or cleaning up means no getting better.

So when my mum came home after my first feeble week of trying to take care of myself, I was both relieved and ashamed. Relieved that she was here ('cos mum always knows what to do) and ashamed (that I did such a bad job, I managed to make myself get even more sick - no mean feat in itself). As my mum did what my mum always does and looked after me, I definitely felt I was getting better. I just didn't want my mother to get sick too. Within the first couple of days, she helped clean up and air out my room and the house, started cooking for me, changed all my bedsheets and made me feel a whole lot better.

I remembered waking up one morning during the week. The cold morning air was dancing outside my window, just as it did when I was child. The aroma of my mother's cooking had infiltrated the house, even though the windows were wide open - just like when I was kid. Of course, there was my mum, checking up on me and making sure I was comfortable and fussing over me - just like so many years ago. I feel so lucky that my mum is around and it's as though nothing has changed.