Last weekend, I had planned a big weekend while my husband was in a class for two days. A big weekend of writing and of house projects, a big weekend of just taking care of myself. Well, I took care of myself, alright – with a visit to urgent care. After struggling through Saturday with an achy chest and lethargy, my Sunday morning doc visit confirmed that I had walking pneumonia. Let me tell you that this stuff is no joke, and the cough the came along with it might have been the worst of my life. After a week and two doctor’s visits, medicine on top of medicine, and lots of time on the couch, I am finally feeling better. Not in the “I can jump up and start working out now” feeling better way, but the “thank whatever god there is that I am not coughing to the point of choking and gagging” way.
One would think that I would’ve taken advantage of the time at home for writing and just taking it easy, but not so. Nearly every moment of every day and sleepless night (there were a lot of sleepless nights) was spent doing the work I get paid for as I’m under a tremendous deadline at the moment. I worked so much, that when I had to visit the doctor again on Thursday because I just wasn’t improving, he told me that it was time turn the computer off. Despite me thinking that working while laying on the couch counted as resting, it was causing stress to my system, which was having an adverse affect on my healing. When I emailed my boss that afternoon to tell him I had to shut down and try to force some rest, his response was “It took your doctor to get this through your head?”. I probably should’ve listened to my body, but the incredible weight of the work that needed to be done was hanging heavy on my shoulders, but I did finally stop and take a break. Between the forced rest, lots of water, and the wicked combination of cough meds, I finally started improving.
I may have had a hard time listening to my body screaming at me for a break, but I didn’t have any trouble listening to it tell me how much it wanted junk food while I was sick. I wasn’t eating much, but when I did I indulged in whatever my body told me it wanted. Ham sandwiches and salty potato chips, meatball subs, a cheeseburger, and donuts. Yes, I topped off my week of illness on Sunday
morning with donuts. I have been craving a good donut from my favorite local shop for a number of months, but have avoided it given my fitness goals. Well, I took advantage of my sick time to enjoy every bite of a lemon filled donut – plus one with sprinkles for good measure.
Is there some grand lesson learned here? Not much more than needing to listen to my body and give it what it needs. Did I miss a week of workouts? Yes. Did I eat junk food all week? Yes. Do I feel guilty about any of it? Not one bit. Sometimes you just need a donut.