I always forget that when I get sick, I get hit harder than the average person, so I go along thinking I'm pretty tough and can fight anything. And then occastionally a truck plows into me, in a sense, even if it is only briefly.
This week a critical project which seemed on Wed like it was never going to get done, somehow wrapped up on Thur and I couldn't wait for the final wrap-ups on Fri and then somehow a celebration.
And then Thur night I woke up with the stomach flu my daughter had 2 days before me. I got to this chair which is right next to our bedroom and stayed there but eventually had to get up. And there the problem started. Viruses will always go after my legs too. So I was semi-stuck in the chair. Eventually I got up very briefly; then back to the chair. My husband carried me to a different chair where I stayed all day...
I left once to go to the bathroom but had to drag myself across the floor. Not pretty. I liked when someone called to ask if I had checked my work email. No, I can't walk. But then the topic shifted to people this person knew who had what I had. Not sure if "I can't walk" was even heard. Somehow I sense that only those closest to me really know this happens.
Whenever I get some silly virus, I contemplate whether I'll be able to walk again. And then the virus ends and my legs come back as they were. Amazingly enough, my legs came back full strength today. I still was dizzy and didn't want to move, but my legs were back. The emotions behind this are difficult to explain. But thanks be to God for the comeback. Perhaps all things are possible, in some kind of different way.