So last night, around the time I should have been going to bed, it occurred to me that I felt better.
I had done nothing all day but read manga and articles about pop culture over at Cracked. For most of the day I was miserable, feeling tired and gaggy and dizzy when I stood up. I’d managed a few bites of my dinner–steak, from a Mexican restaurant–and was just trying to keep it down. But all of a sudden that wasn’t an issue anymore. In fact, I found myself hungry again.
I ate a little more of my food, and I also ate a bowl of strawberry mini wheats cereal, while I continued reading and chatting with friends. It was a lot of fun. I stayed up extremely late, just reveling in not wanting to die. I told Brooke, who by that time had awakened for her Sunday morning, that I was afraid that if I went to sleep I would feel bad again. But eventually tiredness won out and I crawled under the covers.
I awoke not feeling crappy. In fact, I felt good enough to actually do things, like clean up the sink area in my bathroom, load and start the dishwasher, and start a load of laundry. I have the gross taste in my mouth, and a bit of sinus pressure, but I don’t feel overwhelmed by it.
I read about Kimono Karen’s amazing trip to Hawaii and for the first time in weeks thought that maybe I will be healthy enough to do something like that someday. That’s pretty big given that just yesterday, when I was miserable, I realized I no longer felt like I could do anything I wanted to.
“Do I really feel better?” I wondered last night. “Or do I just think I feel better?” Then a better question occurred to me: “Does it matter?”