No Quick Fixes
"It's viral, and you're infectious. You can't go to work for at least another 48 hours. Antibiotics won't help. You just need to rest."
"And suffer!!" I thought to myself. I'd been fighting through this cold for 4 days. The way I do colds, by day #4, I'm better! But, this was day #4, and I was the WORST I'd been.
I had remembered the consequences I'd endured last Christmas when I stubbornly refused to see a doctor while suffering similar symptoms - a full blown sinus infection, a trip to an urgent care, and missing one of my best friend's baby showers.
I wasn't going to be stubborn again. We have a lot going on this week. I couldn't afford to be sick. This time, I'd be a good patient and go to the doctor.... And what happens? He tells me there is nothing I can do but "rest" and "lay low" and "push fluids." All the stuff I'd already been doing...
Where are the meds? Where's the smile and little piece of paper with the chicken scratch on it with the affirming sentence, "Fill this and you'll start feeling much better by tomorrow."
But instead, nothing. Not even a prescription for Zofran.
In my mind, I stomped my foot and clenched my fists while on the outside I forced a smile and said "Thank you, doctor."
This morning, after a night of tossing and turning, I stuck a straw in my breakfast smoothie and slowly let the cold matter slide down my sore throat.
"Why do I have to go through this?"
Last weekend, David was sick with a milder version of this plague. Since starting law school, every time one of us has been sick, I've always said, "I'd rather be sick than David." Last weekend I'd murmured, "I wish it was me, not you."
While carefully drinking my breakfast, I remembered the way Christ willingly took on our punishment. There wasn't a quick fix there. He knew what He was going to suffer in order for restoration to be available to the world. He even asked God to make another way. But, He was The Way. So, He suffered. And, now we're free because of it.
I rinse out the green plastic cup I'd been drinking from and place it in the dishwasher and wish I had the energy to do a quick run through our home with some lysol. But, that wouldn't exactly be resting. There's only way to shake this thing, there are no quick fixes.
So, I sit. I rest. And I thank God for using my current state of suffering to remind me of the suffering I'll never have to endure.
Tissue box in hand, I make my way back to bed, and rest.
"And suffer!!" I thought to myself. I'd been fighting through this cold for 4 days. The way I do colds, by day #4, I'm better! But, this was day #4, and I was the WORST I'd been.
I had remembered the consequences I'd endured last Christmas when I stubbornly refused to see a doctor while suffering similar symptoms - a full blown sinus infection, a trip to an urgent care, and missing one of my best friend's baby showers.
I wasn't going to be stubborn again. We have a lot going on this week. I couldn't afford to be sick. This time, I'd be a good patient and go to the doctor.... And what happens? He tells me there is nothing I can do but "rest" and "lay low" and "push fluids." All the stuff I'd already been doing...
Where are the meds? Where's the smile and little piece of paper with the chicken scratch on it with the affirming sentence, "Fill this and you'll start feeling much better by tomorrow."
But instead, nothing. Not even a prescription for Zofran.
In my mind, I stomped my foot and clenched my fists while on the outside I forced a smile and said "Thank you, doctor."
This morning, after a night of tossing and turning, I stuck a straw in my breakfast smoothie and slowly let the cold matter slide down my sore throat.
"Why do I have to go through this?"
Last weekend, David was sick with a milder version of this plague. Since starting law school, every time one of us has been sick, I've always said, "I'd rather be sick than David." Last weekend I'd murmured, "I wish it was me, not you."
While carefully drinking my breakfast, I remembered the way Christ willingly took on our punishment. There wasn't a quick fix there. He knew what He was going to suffer in order for restoration to be available to the world. He even asked God to make another way. But, He was The Way. So, He suffered. And, now we're free because of it.
I rinse out the green plastic cup I'd been drinking from and place it in the dishwasher and wish I had the energy to do a quick run through our home with some lysol. But, that wouldn't exactly be resting. There's only way to shake this thing, there are no quick fixes.
So, I sit. I rest. And I thank God for using my current state of suffering to remind me of the suffering I'll never have to endure.
Tissue box in hand, I make my way back to bed, and rest.
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