Nobody likes being sick, but sometimes the symptoms are pretty cool, and as much as I’m glad to be healthy again, I feel a little sad when those cool symptoms slowly recede. I think to myself “why didn’t I appreciate them when I had them?” The answer, of course, is because I was sick. But that’s never an acceptable answer, is it?
A few years ago, I randomly lost my voice. “Oh cool,” I thought to myself, “I lost my voice.” I didn’t even feel sore or anything. Just suddenly sounds were not coming out of my mouth when I tried to make them. That night I was at a party where someone started up a storytelling game. Genius that I was, I participated probably more than anyone else. Kind of an amazing feat with no voice.
I woke up the next day, and I still had no voice. Slightly more than I’d had the previous night, but not by a statistically significant amount. “I wonder how well I sing like this,” I thought to myself. (in case anyone is curious, this is how well I sang like that)
I went over a couple different songs, each a couple times. And the more I sang, the easier it got. And I got a little upset. Towards the end I was faking being hoarser than I was, and that was just no fun.
Similarly, I was sick this week. Which was an interesting story in and of itself, because most people associate cold, muggy weather with high likelihood of catching a cold. But I got sick when it was hot and dusty, and only started getting better when it started getting cold and muggy. Like, the night when it started raining, I was having trouble sleeping up until I started hearing rain outside, and suddenly I could breathe more easily and I fell asleep. I spent half of today, the coldest day in over a month, outside and in shorts and sandals, and I’ve only kept feeling better.
Up to and including this funny feeling in my chest that I got when I breathed. I’m not entirely sure what the feeling is. I remember getting it a lot when I was a little kid, but not really paying attention to it until a long period where I never felt it at all, and then one Summer afternoon after playing in the water sprinkler all day where I felt it again. I associated it for a while with being cold and wet. But I think it’s probably a sign of damage to my windpipe, and means that simply breathing is an irritation.
Which means that, logically, I should want this sensation to go away, because holy hell do I not want to deal with the consequences of my throat being constantly irritated and damaged. That’s just asking for problems. But on the other hand, this is such a cool feeling. And this is the first time I’ve felt it since I was a kid. Who knows when I’ll get another chance to experience this? I’m sure as hell not going to try and induce it. Like I said, that’s asking for problems.
The thing is, I don’t get sick easily either. Only when I’m really (really) over-tired or about to do something that would suck to be sick during.
So I’ve kinda got to cherish my time being sick. Tomorrow when I wake up, I probably won’t even have a cough any more. And I’ll be happy.
But I’ll also be sad.
Goodbye funny little upper-chest feeling. I hope to meet you again some day soon, and yet I hope you never ever come back to grace my life with your presence.