How Sick Have I Been?

You know the kind of sick where you don’t even care what day it is or what happens to you? If, say, you’re driving, you feel like you could just curl up at the side of the road and stay there until winter?

You know the kind of sick where if your boss called and said, “get in here right now or you’re fired”, you know you’d say, “Who cares?” because you don’t have the strength or capacity to think about anything except your sorry self?

You know the kind of sick where it’s too much effort to get up and make yourself a tea, even though you really want one and you know you’d enjoy it, but you just don’t have the strength?

You know the kind of sick that prevents you from even whining about it because no one on this earth has ever felt as bad so they wouldn’t understand and besides, you aren’t seeing anybody or even talking on the phone anyway?

You know the kind of sick when even just the thought of your favourite foods is almost enough to send you fleeing to hold a conversation in the bathroom’s great white phone, so you don’t eat anything at all for two days?

That’s how sick I was. But I’m finally now on the mend.