I don’t get sick often, but when I do I go down fast and hard. I must have picked up some kind of special messed up virus on my recent travels.
Yesterday I woke up, normal but a bit on the wonky side, and after an hour on my feet I realized things were not OK in my world.
The kids went off the school with their Valentines goodies, Spore to work, and the border collies and I at home. We all looked at each other for a brief moment, not quite the day we had planned.
My eyes were having trouble focusing, and because my head felt like someone was repeatedly beating it with a 2 X 4, and my stomach was on the high seas some where, I crawled into bed. But even that didn’t feel so good. Then the fever set in, yipee!
I don’t do sick well. I want my Mom and my Grandma to take care of me, even if only in thought. Comfort, caring, make me better. Wait, I kind of take that back. My Mom didn’t do ‘me being sick’ very well come to think of it. My sick days were something like “how are you feeling?”, “Mom I feel awful”, “well when you get a bit of energy here’s the bucket of cleaning supplies, the bathroom needs cleaning and the kitchen cabinets need washing and polishing”. Anyhoo, I want comfort, I hate being sick alone.
Thank goodness for my nursing crew yesterday! While they can’t get me tea, or make chicken soup, they offer comfort that goes much deeper, healing at the very core.
Ocean has a hard time giving comfort to anyone, she is so concerned for her own safety that me being sick can nearly throw her over the edge. ‘Dear God who is going to take care of me now’ was kind of the expression on her face when I crawled into bed. But she did give me comfort every time she came in to check on me, she gave me one kiss, whined a bit, and then went back to the couch. That effort is huge for her.
Franny has always been the one to stick by me when I am not feeling well. She either lays in her crate next to my bed, or is on my bed with me. Her presence is not lost on me. Even when the room is spinning at 100 miles an hour with a skull crushing head ache, she is my anchor.
Story my Sentry. So honest, so true. Mr. Integrity. He hops onto the bed and presses all 60 border collie pounds of muscle into my back. The weight and pressure is soothing. Better than a heating pad, hot water bottle, or warm rice & bean packs. And the added bonus is his luscious fur to bury my fingers in. When he gets to warm he will hop off and lay on the cool hardwood floor next to my bed. He did this back and forth all day yesterday.
$eeker, dear sweet $eeker. So intelligent, beyond words, so quirky, and so funny. He was my lightness of being to be sure. He would rest his chin on the bed and put his nose into my right ear. He has a noise making repertoire that he does very softly, from low growl to chirping, to clattering, to humming. Not sure what he was trying to tell me but it made me giggle, until my head split open with raging pain. So $eekers way of reminding me that pain is all relative, and there certainly is worse pain to feel, would jump onto the bed and slowly and purposefully walk across my chest and abdomen, each foot deliberately placed, and each foot supporting most of his 50 pounds of border collie weight. He would work his way to my left ear and then start his special language with me again. It was hard not to giggle, but the thought of him repeatedly walking across me was good incentive to remain silent and listen to what he had to say.
Did my dogs ‘want’ to take care of me, maybe, but I doubt it. I just happened to be the only game in town yesterday. As soon as Spore and the kids came home, I was alone again, and they were off playing.
It was the first day in a very long time where I literally could not get out of bed, oh I think I did once, but I crawled.
This morning I woke to four dogs, bouncing around, kissing me, howling, barking, and excited for a new day. Maybe they could sense I was feeling better? They make me smile, a smile that reaches the eyes…
I love them so very much… Nancy