Reading a book can make my life easier as I was sick with the bug.

By Sara Gamachu

I started sharing about my week with the bug/cold/allergy/flu. I even had someone ask me in real life if I was sick. It was just congestion then. I responded with a shrug saying I didn’t know. I didn’t know if my allergies jumped a level. I was doing allergy medicine at first, then I realized it was more than that. So much stuff happening from volunteering at Cheshire twice a week to visits to the city other days. Plus, the cold dreary rain on top of it. My hoodie was my comfort as I took the navigator seat in the van. Drip drop I felt the occasional rain through the window silt. Once we got home I unloaded and put supplies away from the trip. Than after checking to see if anyone needed anything I would go to my room. Got into something comfortable I snuggled into my bed to recharge. For most of July that was my routine.

I got moody and fatigued. Did everything without skipping a beat. The rain fell and the hoodie plus extra layers and umbrella to boot. Internally I knew I was tired and cold. A young guest saw me the Sunday before and warned me that he saw the exhaustion in my face. I smiled and thought maybe it was time I took care of me. Slowly boundaries came up like would do fewer things and rested more. That was in the first week of July. Before I saw this family. Before I knew it, my book collection grew and my quiet time reading became my new thing.

I should have known when my exercise time decreased in exchange for reading that I was really fatigued. So, I would do stretches here and there with my playlist and rested afterwards. My family life had its ups and downs with illnesses that took up room in my mind. I was emotionally and physically tired and afraid to admit it.

It has been a few weeks since I began this project. I call my entries projects because some might get published while others will remain in draft form. My body has been dealing with the coughing and runny nose of this crud. It has been horrible. My breathing sounded like through a plastic bag. Several times I wanted to die because I couldn’t take my chest hurting as much as it did. I took cough drops, cough syrup, and nighttime medicine so I could get some relief. I even began imagining my son bringing me some Campbell’s Tomato Soup and tea just to help me feel better. He would lie next to me trying to keep me warm as I was going between the warm and cold phases.

I recently finished reading Les Miserable by Victor Hugo. It was a classic among classics. In some way or another I would relating to the characters and watching my life played out. This year I have read 2 Jane Austen books, working on my second Charles Dickens, a Nathaniel Hawthorne, and so much more. Including manuals, I have collected 27 books. It is quite an achievement.

Molly Sebhat