sometimes life creeps up on you like a bad head cold. it starts with a scratchy morning, which you just know will progress to a dry, hacking afternoon and end with a thoroughly congested evening.
and sometimes it will body-rush you straight into pneumonia.
there are no antibiotics for the particular virus i’ve caught. 13 consecutive clouded days (an almost-record for wisconsin) and a handful of bitter weeks have laid me low. at this point even the idea of sunlight pains me. and dear god, does time creep when the most exciting part of the day is night and bed and sweet oblivion.
but through the watery eyes and pounding noggin, i find an abatement of my symptoms. mornings ripe with the promise of something better than what came before. afternoons of plans and purpose and a finding of my true direction. three nightly hours when i am sure of my place in the world.
they may not cure what i’ve got, but they can surely ease the aches and pains until once more my head is clear and my body hale and hearty.
the best medicine? remembering three things. one: things could be worse. two: joy abounds. three: i’m still here. after all else, i’m still here.
so bring it on. i stand ready with all the weapons at my disposal: a rapier-sharp wit, a keen intellect, a ferocious heart and a killer smile.
all hail the bruce.