I don't feel any different because my immune system is down to near-zero. But it means that Ilga can't visit because she's not feeling well. And then it means I can't see Eliza because she has a cold. I have not seen Eliza in what feels like years. Some five-year old part of me is whining,
it's not fair. And when Colin and me are sitting at the market, drinking coffee and eating Bavarian apple cake and a toddler strays in our direction, I freeze, praying he won't come near me because little kids are the next closest thing to a petri dish full of flu germs. When my cab driver sniffles, I feel myself pressing back into my seat, straining for that extra inch away from the possibility of germs. I religiously wipe down grocery cart handles with an anti-bacterial wipe. When I get home from anywhere, I run for the hand sanitizer. I'm constantly reminding myself not to touch my face. I'm beginning to imagine I can SEE e-coli on raw spinach leaves.
Funny story, though...
The other night, after I'd tidied the apartment and was bloated with self-esteem over my shining kitchen sink and uncluttered coffee table, I decided a little ambiance would be nice. I lit candles and settled into blissful silence, admiring my handiwork. (You can all imagine how often I have a clean apartment by the momentousness of the occasion) An hour later, my nose started to leak. One tissue, two, three, four... And then a nose bleed. Not a bad nosebleed, but I have been warned about the lack of platelets in my blood.
No, no, no. An infection? I run for the thermometer and stick it in my mouth. If my temperature reaches even 100F, I have to go the hospital. The Big Book of Cancer Leaflets, saith it is so. A minute later, the thermometer beeps and I take it out and read the result. 97.8F
And suddenly I recall that candle smoke always makes my nose run.
Girl in a bubble. Crap. Is it Spring yet?
6 comments:
How long has it been since you lit candles?
Months? Quite a while...
You'd think I'd remember that, wouldn't you?
I would imagine that the days tend to meld together a little.
It's a shame that candles have that effect on you. I always found them relaxing.
This too shall pass.
The isolation that can come this time of year is terrible when you have the big C. Everyone and their brother has come down with something, and it seems you can't even step outside because the big bad booger man (not to be confused with the boogey man) is out to infect you.
It's not fair and it does suck, but we are still here with you and for you. We are not going anywhere. On the days you can't get out: channel your inner recluse, curl up with a mug of coffee and wax philosophical to the infinite web-space. Here you will always find a listening ear.
I'm glad it was just irritation from the candle smoke. Sending good thoughts -
I need to try soya candles, I think. I love candles (do you hear another "it's not FAIR) in there?
And now it isn't, of course, candles - but the bug everyone has - in spite of ALL my efforts.
And Brian..."channel your inner recluse"...Ah..no problem, she's never far away!
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