Yesterday I legit thought I was dying. I left work the day before feeling like I was the luckiest woman this side of the Sahara. I had three days of leave and a list of 23 errands to run over the period I would be leave. My list was rich with things I have been putting off due to work commitments; go to KASNEB and sort stuff, change my bank account, give away all the clothes I haven’t worn in six months. You get the idea.
Then yesterday morning, I woke up with such a severe case of tonsillitis that I could not even swallow saliva. And a batch of fresh new menstrual cramps, raging again about finding an empty uterus. One of the foremost items I had on the list was to either go running or to go to the gym from 6 am in the morning. Working out always makes me feel like Superwoman, and I could cook gourmet meals and save the world on endorphins.
Except I wake up and everything hurts. No one goes in search of endorphins when everything hurts. So I took painkillers and waited for the passing of my agony. The day was spent languishing and watching suits. The cramps pain was dulled for a bit for sure, then I waited for the tonsillitis to die down. I knew I would kick ass the next day.
I took a lot of hot drinks. Mugs upon mugs of sugarless green and white tea. Dry bread to scrap off the infection, grimacing through it. When the day was over and the night was over, I had not gotten better.
So I did what any ordinary Kenyan would do. I went and bought piriton tablets, I knew I wanted to get some sleep so I could spend the second day of leave to kick ass. But last night at around two am, I was woken up by other issues. Now both tonsils were inflamed so badly it hurt to even move my tongue. My chest was congested nicely, as if it had grown mould and I literally felt like I could not breathe. So I texted my friend Purity, with instructions. She was to tell my parents I loved them. And to tell my crush I died while thinking of his beard. Then she was to tell my boss that I would tell Angel Gabriel only good things about her. Then I watched Suits on Netflix and waited to be killed by humongous tonsils and a lonely asthma attack.
So of course, I did not die. But Purity called me in the morning and demanded I haul my ass to town and to hospital (her words). Off I went, got nebulised for the first time. Had the shakes as the medicine took over and was so sick they even had me lie down for a while at the clinic since I had sat at their reception looking like a withered leaf. And after I left hospital, with a truck of drugs and a new inhaler, and a clearer respiratory system, I came to sleep.
And the irony of it is, the 23 tasks that I was to do these three days, they remained unticked. Abandoned almost.
Lesson learnt- Control what you can, leave the rest.
And of course, that sometimes, God sees me writing down my list of the things I shall do and he throws his head back to laugh.