Last week I had Covid and was pretty sick for several days. Just mildly for many days, but pretty sick for a couple. Which is unusual for me. I get tired and my body gives me clues that it’s growing weary of my lifestyle, but I don’t get sick very often.
People were very, very nice to me, leaving me food and sending messages and checking in to see what, if anything, I needed. This is the blessing of living in a small town. People do, for the most part, keep an eye on each other. That can go both ways, sometimes it feels like there’s no privacy, but in hard times it’s nice.
People had ideas about how to treat the Covid. I guess there’s an antidote that certain people can take … ? I haven’t paid much attention to all of that and I wasn’t interested in it, either. I am of the minority camp that believes that disease and sickness are telling us something important and that they give us an opportunity to look more closely at our life to see what’s out of whack.
Usually by the time we get sick something has been out of balance for a while and the body finally reaches its tipping point and sickness presents telling us it’s time to take a rest or change our diet or stop one or another behavior.
In my case I was happy to be able to say No for a change. Happy to sleep a lot, eat less and do nothing. This was all a welcomed respite from my daily life of activity, service and motion.
No thank you, I told several people who had ideas about a remedy, I want to really feel this and see what it has to say.
I’m well aware that there are many who would need medical attention for something like Covid. To be clear, I’m not advocating for no medicine, I just don’t think we need to hand every condition we have over to doctors and nurses. I think that when we take ownership of our own healing we become better attuned to our body and more aware of what it needs.
I remember being in the hospital after being in a bicycle accident in 1987. Back then the medical chart was at the foot of the bed so anyone who came to make a medical visit could read what had been done already, what was happening. I recall vividly the moment I realized what it was and how astonished I was by how thick it was. These are all the things they’re doing to me? I remember thinking. It was a completely detached experience: like all of these medical professionals were treating something that wasn’t actually me. There was the doctor for the legs, the doctor for the lungs, the doctor for the blood, the general practitioner and the many, many nurses. I was parceled up into all kinds of different parts and no one was really telling me much about what was going on.
The one thing there wasn’t was someone to help me through the fear, the depression and the confusion. There was no sense on anyone’s part that it would be a good idea to treat the mind and spirit at the same time as the very broken body.
This is how we roll here, parceling out the human and treating small bits at a time. It’s insanity.
When I was a hospital chaplain it was a rare bird of a patient who wanted a chaplain visit. For many, I think, it meant death. If a chaplain was coming to visit it had to be because you weren’t going to make it. We had to educate people all the time about what a chaplain was there for and why it was an important part of the hospital journey.
Still, most people don’t see illness this way, or even the human condition as comprised of many parts: biological, mental, emotional and spiritual. There are few among us who would even bother to wonder what’s out of whack emotionally or spiritually when sickness comes to visit.
I was thinking yesterday how great it would be if the next stop after the oncologist’s office where you are diagnosed with cancer would be the psychologist or chaplain who asks you if you’re ready now to probe your deepest hurts, disappointments and traumas. I would name it the Bureau of Truth, the place where you go when you are finally ready to live differently.
Looking back on my extended hospital experience in the 80s I would say that the people who spent time with me: the transportation guy who used to come during his lunch break to sit and talk, just to see how I was … one time he brought a set of hand weights and told me I needed to work on getting stronger so I could get out of there. He was right! And he was very, very kind. My friends who brought sandwiches, my dad who brought me a daily Snickers bar. Old teachers who dropped by with gifts. These were the people and things that helped me get well. And the prayers of my parents’ church people. I know they played a role in my healing. Sure, the medical interventions and procedures helped me to stay alive and brought me back to wellness, but it was the community of people who rallied around me and shone their loving light in my direction who inspired me to get better and helped me heal.
Covid worked its way through and out of my system. I knew it would. I knew why I had it: I was doing too much, too busy, not sleeping well. My physical and emotional fatigue gave the virus inroads into my system. I listened and responded. I used the time to read and lay in the sunshine. I ate less and slept more. And I went for long walks in the woods, just being with the trees and the water. They were all healing balms for my tired self. I didn’t want to run to the doctor’s office right away to get the pharmaceutical cure, I wanted to let the sickness do its work on me. The time had come for me to study some things about myself and to spend some time integrating some of the things I was learning. To simply be quiet. It was nice.
Thank you Melissa, I too have lived many of the moments you shared and I too had Blessed Souls Guiding me to a Healthy Outcome and I continue to Enjoy and I am blessed that your ministry blesses so many. Thank you.
Love Surrounds Us
Melissa,
It is good that you listen to your inner self and navagate your own healing techniques. We are are best advocates that can help ourselves if we listen and follow. Glad you are better so you will be ready for life's adventures.