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March 26, 2005 02:32 PM
Ah, my old nemesis, the flu. Or the cold. Who can really tell? How bad does the fever have to be to qualify as a flu? I was just sick about two months ago, with a pretty much identical bug, so I kind of feel like I already did my time, and a second go-round is remarkably unjust. But oh, well. At least I have a week of vacation ahead of me. One of the biggest stresses for me of being sick is that I usually have a bunch of other stuff that needs to get done, so I'm either unable to rest, or feel immensely guilty resting. This time around, at least, I don't have that added tension. I know everyone dislikes being sick . . . but I have some fairly extreme anxieties about illness. I'm not really a hypochondriac, but I'm something similar. Hypochondriacs believe they are sick when they aren't. My phobia is more future time than present . . . I'm paranoid about becoming sick. Whenever I have any slight disturbance in my body, I assume that it's the first step in a downhill slide that will result in catastrophic meltdown. I remind myself that no illness I have ever had has become particularly catastrophic. Even the really bad two-week flu that did send me to the emergency room twice, and the extremely painful recurring ear infections of my childhood, pretty much just went away on their own. Treatment received in those cases was just to make me more comfortable while my body did its work of naturally healing itself. I guess I just need to admit it . . . my body wants to be healthy. I just have to stay out of its way and not freak out while it's fixing itself. |
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