A point of clarification...

I deal very poorly with illness. Worse with drawn-out illness. I can't bear incapacitation. I despair over my life derailed by fruitless hours spent lying in bed, praying for relief. Even if it's just a week with the flu, I turn into Emily Dickinson all of a sudden.

It's very embarrassing.

As always whenever I get sick, Dan has been a saint this past week. He's picking up all the slack with the cooking and cleaning, and also watching Harvey whenever he's home so I can lie down.

Life isn't so bad. I have a wonderful husband; I'm getting 10 hours of sleep a night. I'm still making it to the playground each day. It's only in my mind I feel like Sisyphus, pushing a giant spinning space-training machine up an endless hill.

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