It’s far too early to open up the attic fan and celebrate spring. A week into March, warm days and sunny skies felt right but winter can spill over into April, even May without rhyme or reason. When summer does this into October we feel good about it. When winter hangs on we take it personally. The lawn was still a dull, dirty shade of brown and winter buds on the trees were still tightly wrapped, but the sun was shining. On Tuesday last, a friend was helping me frame up the last photographs for an upcoming art show. By the time he went home I knew there was something wrong with my throat, a little hack that wouldn’t go away. By bedtime my nose was running and I knew it would get worse before it got better; that was five days ago.
I’ve known a few binge drinking alcoholics, go for long periods without drinking anything then fall off the cart and disappear for a few days. When they popped up again they looked terrible and couldn’t remember anything. If there is a lesson there for me it is in the parallel, coming out the other end. Trying to reconstruct the last four days is more guess work than memory. I knew I was sick on Wednesday, started drinking water, taking soup and sleeping. At first I thought it was allergies but painful joints and muscles let me know it was one flu or another. I took the flu shot this year but halfway into the flu season they announced they got it wrong. The bug they protected us from was not the flu we were getting. I forgave them at the time and suspected, if I ever get the flu, this will surely be the year.
Over the next few days I remember going to sleep, waking up not sure where I was. When I couldn’t sleep, a hot shower was the only thing I could trust. Go to sleep in places like my bed or my car in a parking lot; waking up in unlikely places. It wasn’t confusing then, only now. I knew I had to keep taking fluids and nourishment. Getting up, all I noticed was daylight or dark and did I feel good enough to go back to sleep. If not, I would do something for a while and take a hot shower. I realize that all of my behavior was thought out and rational, slow and deliberate. I wasn’t taking any chances. But putting it together several days later, it just isn’t all there. This morning my radio came on at 6:00 and I woke up. It was a new day and I sensed I was off the hook. I didn’t need a hot shower.
In the meantime I had finished the last four photographs, helped my son with some dog-setting duties, kept myself well hydrated and fed. Everything in my kitchen was exactly where I put it down. It didn’t take long this morning to put things away and clean up, framed photos in crates and framing tools in their proper place. I can see the counter tops and both sides of the sink are empty. I looked out the kitchen widow and the grass was showing some green. This flu kept me very into the moment, very self conscious but the hindsight is blurred. Even asleep, the dream factory wouldn’t let me rest and those memories, shuffled in with reality create another disparity. Just how much this is like a binge drinker coming out of the zone, I don’t know. But I do know I’m feeling better and I'll take that.
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