Spring has sprung; daylight arrives earlier and earlier and hangs around later and later; temps are on the rise; the robins are fat and sassy; and here I am testy and truculent. Well, I did not intend to be this way at the moment. Who am I kidding….it’s exactly what I intend to be. This has, without question, been one of the most disagreeable beginnings to a year that I have experienced in my recent memory.
In the last 10 weeks I have had two deplorably unpleasant bouts with the flu, I tested positive for COVID for 13 straight days, and then there was a 2 day hospital stay where I discovered that my heart was stopping for brief periods of time and I had pneumonia, neither of which sounded like “good things” to me. I know, my life is indeed charmed.
Ok, I will not pretend or imply that my “ailment encounters” qualify as a “big dang deal” when compared to what so many others are dealing with in their lives, but let me be clear, when I am in the beginning, middle, or end of hugging the porcelain throne, I am most assuredly somewhat less delightful than my standard cheerful, exuberant, kind self. Save your snark here; I distinctly recall one time when I was cheerful, bordering on exuberant, so cut me some slack.
The COVID thing was accompanied by a constant temperature between 101-103 which was just enough to make me ache and feel like 100% top grade crud. I had a headache that raged, I could not breathe, my body ached like I had gotten into a scrap with the “Hell’s Cherubs” and lost. FYI, “Hell’s Cherubs” are the diminutive version of Hell’s Angels, not quite as fierce as the “real thing” but still more than capable of royally kicking my backside.
While I am speaking so candidly of getting my butt kicked by microscopic entities, let me share a brief synopsis of the 2nd flu experience which followed approximately 7 days after the COVID. I was in Kroger. So far so good. In fact I was feeling quite competent and stable. Then I rounded the corner and put my hand on the 2% milk case handle. About ½ of a nano-second later, I knew that I was going to be sick. Cold sweats, shaky all over, glazed eyes, and that horrible yet unmistakable feeling that I needed to get out of the store, pronto.
With a cart full of groceries, I charged full speed ahead to the self check out place, aggressively rolled my cart toward that very nice, but somewhat confused attendant, and with my hand covering my mouth, I squawked in my pre-sick feeble voice, “I am going to be sick! Keep my groceries, thank you!” With that, I ran out to the parking lot in the general direction of where I hoped my car was parked. Well, I made it to my car, or one that resembled it, held on to the door and the inevitable happened. It was not pretty.
The poor guy in the truck next to me, exited his vehicle, could not ignore me, turned an array of 25 rather distinctive and impressive colors of green and power walked 75 feet around my car. I mumbled, “I’m sorry,” but I do not think he cared at that moment. Anyway, it came to my mind that although I did not know the guy, I did conclude that he did not work in a profession where barfing was a common occurrence. Probably traumatized him for at least 2 years; he is probably in counseling even as I write this. Mea culpa.
So, I know you are just dying for me to continue, and not one to disappoint, I will. I managed to topple into my car, drive home – luckily I live right down the road – and crawled out of my car, made it to my kitchen floor and thought maybe I might expire right there. I wondered how long it might take for someone to find my withered body tucked tightly into a rigid fetal position under my kitchen table. But, not to worry, I called my very very good friend and incoherently muttered, “I need you.” Within 3 minutes, there she was! She went to Kroger, got my groceries, brought them back and even put them away. My daughters were called; one came within an hour and stayed with me through the night to make sure I didn’t croak alone, I guess.
Family and friends are critical in times of illness, that’s for sure. Well, I did survive, obviously because here I am, but the memories continue to haunt me in the night. Now the upside of being sick for a lengthy time, confined pretty much to the bathroom floor, is I had lots of opportunities to think and ponder the world situation. Want to know what one considers in the throes of a fever-ridden,-covid-pneumonia-heart stopping-barf-fest? I will assume you answered in the positive, so here are some of the questionably profound thoughts of a delirious Kreigh.
* If one must deal with yuckiness, sunshine helps.
* Hypothetically, if students do something wrong, even against the law, and they get caught but the people in charge do nothing, what is the larger lesson, do you suppose, those kids learned from the experience? Talk is cheap. What we adults do carries much more weight with children than what we say.
* If Katie Britt was a greeter at Walmart, I would be compelled to shop at Target.
* As you read this, my 2 daughters, my grandson and I will be on an 11-day whirlwind college visit road trip. Starting at Vanderbilt, going to Wharton School of Business, University of Pennsylvania, continuing on to Boston and 4 more institutions of higher learning, then flying back to Indy. It will be great fun because I will be in the company of the 3 most important people in my life. That said, I hope I can keep up!
* Sometimes, on occasion, I think I may be bat guano crazy.
Here’s the thing: No matter what, life does go on. I cannot control much about anything except perhaps my actions, reactions, interactions, and non-actions. Babe Ruth said that it’s hard to beat a person who never gives up. That’s the goal then, not to give up, but to get up. I am determined to get the heck up, breathe, and get on with it. Here’s to the remaining 9 months of 2024, may they be smashingly safe and healthy, for all of us.
bkreigh@adamswells.com
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired and current teachers — LaNae Abnet, Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Kathy Schwartz, Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
