For the past month, a cold had infiltrated our household. First my oldest got hit with it. He was down for the count for a couple of days. Next my youngest got hit with it. He was knocked out for a few days. There was a day of overlap which left me with a day where I didn’t have to take them to their lessons which was a small blessing. As the younger residents were coughing, sneezing, and feeling poorly, I doubled my efforts at keeping myself well. I was hitting the gym with ferocity and keeping my diet as clean as possible. Later my husband started complaining of a sore throat.
Now in the scheme of things, my husband hardly ever gets sick. So, if he’s taking off a day of work and wandering around the house in a robe, you know things have gone seriously sideways. So I knocked on wood and figured the reason why I was still healthy was because I was a beast at keeping the germ-fairy at bay. As an elementary school teacher for nearly 20 years, I felt as if I had been exposed to every germ known to man, so I must have a constitution made of steel. In my zeal, I hit the gym like a madwoman, munched my fruits/vegetables, gobbled herbal supplements like jellybeans, and embraced my good health like a warm blanket. That was my folly.
As the family embraced their recovery like precious flowers, I fell down the mountain of health like a skier out of control. What should I blame? The germy gym? That extended sweat session in the sauna? Wet hair? Kissing and embracing the sick with abandon because I had a constitution of steel? Who know? Who cares? The end result remains the same. So as I cough up part of a lung as I type this, I know I’m slowly crawling back to a state of better health.