This week, I am learning to rest. Not by choice, mind you. By mandate. Mandated by my body.
I nearly passed out in class the other day, trying to lecture second-year students on 3-Dimensional Drafting. Then I ran to the bathroom, ready to vomit. I did not pass out, nor did I lose my lunch. I did, however, forget everything I had said and cried at school. I called my doctor, my sister, my mother.
As it turns out, talking too much set off Bronchial Spasms, and I couldn’t get enough oxygen. Funny thing, I felt fine – until I couldn’t hear anything or remember what I was saying.
I had a friend drive me to Urgent Care, dragging her into the exam room with me and making her sit through the boring details of how long I’d been coughing, what happened, what medication may or may not work. Oh, and being told to rest.
This was terrifying. I’ve been scared before, felt helpless and worried – but never so convinced that I needed a break. That I MUST rest, or I would completely destroy my physical self.
I can’t decide if I’m more annoyed that a) HAVE to rest b) The whole thing was so dramatic, but I felt fine 36 hours later c) That I wasn’t aware enough to prevent it d) that i NEARLY PASSED OUT in front of 20 students and my boss e) I can’t train for the mini-marathon, and that really bothers me.
Tomorrow I have to work. A lot. How will this work? I’m praying, a lot. I’ve only done about 3 hours of work in 48 hours. That’s nothing, I had a plan of completing at least 20 hours this weekend.
But God and my body said NO. Dear Lord, I’m scared I’ll fail.
thirdinseven 