When I'm sick, it shakes my irrational half-subconscious belief that I am somehow in control of everything that happens to me. Because--you might not believe this--I don't like getting sick. So, as I "jokingly" told my husband, that's why I don't do it. Don't get me wrong--on a purely intellectual level, I know I can't really will myself not to pick up the random germs and viruses that surround me on a daily basis, but the fact that I am hardly ever really ill somehow lends to the illusion that I can. In the words of an old Roger Miller song, "I don't like to do things I don't like to do." And so, I simply do not get sick. I don't want to. (If that last bit didn't sound a little bit crazy to you, I have bad news. You, too, may be a control freak.) However, this time I did. Which forces me to openly acknowledge that there are some things in life I just cannot control, like it or not. And that can't be bad for me.
When I'm sick, I don't get any of my stuff done. It's not just that I can't go to work, although that's annoying too, but it's all the other "stuff" of life that fills up most of my days, which no one can really do but me. All my little chores, tasks, errands and projects have to be put on the shelf. My checklist is bare of checks, and I can't tell you how much that bothers me. Which leads me to ask myself, "why does this bother me so much?" Answer? It's messing with my sense of self-worth. Because, sadly, even at my advanced stage in life, when I should know better, I still tend to equate being a worthwhile person with being a person who gets a lot of stuff done. Not being able to check off a million daily accomplishments causes me to come up short against the truth that this "failure" does not diminish my value. Is doing all those things the source of my acceptance by my family? My friends? God? No. Therefore leaving me no logical room to make it the standard of acceptance by myself. And--brace yourself for an ugly personal truth about me--also leaving me no moral high ground, on the days when I'm feeling up to snuff, to subtly regard others as inferior to myself for not "checking off" what I consider to be a reasonable number of completed tasks.
When I'm sick, nobody else gets their stuff done either. The kids don't do their chores or clean up behind themselves. Phone calls don't get made, nobody takes a shower, trash doesn't get carried out in a timely fashion. Everyone just meanders off to play video games, dress up in costumes, eat snacks instead of dinner, and otherwise enjoy themselves. They have a wonderful time. It's almost like all those things they do on a daily basis are just a list of my priorities that I've made and imposed on them. Wait....maybe all those things are just a list of my priorities that I've made and imposed on them. And maybe, just maybe, even the things they really do need to take care of have been usurped by me to the degree that they no longer have to feel any personal responsibility for them at all. After all, if I'm willing to be responsible for them instead, why should they bother? So perhaps I need to practice on a daily basis allowing each person in this home to truly feel the ownership, take the initiative, and experience the consequences involved in discharging their own responsibilities. Maybe this team needs more than one player.
When I'm sick, I'm forced to put myself first. Given the obvious megalomaniac tendencies displayed above, perhaps you think I need no great encouragement to do this. I admit, attempting to control everything around me, shore up my own credibility with personal accomplishments, and assume responsibility for everyone in the house could be regarded as a fairly selfish approach to life in general. But, as I think most females on this planet probably know, no matter how much of a control freak you may be, if you are a woman, wife, and mother, these tendencies are nevertheless coupled with a nasty habit of putting the needs (and even wants) of everyone else far ahead of your own. Being sick makes me take care of myself in the right way. It lets me allow others to take care of me, too. It forces me to prioritize what I need, and to ask others to prioritize it also. It tells everyone--including me--that Mom is human too, and sometimes she needs a day off. (Or two.) And that's not only OK, but it's important, because it puts us all together in the same boat. It lets us relate to each other honestly and be real with each other; it teaches us that we're all vulnerable, all valuable, and all worthy of care, for each other and for ourselves.
So being sick once in a while is likely one of the healthiest things I can do for myself. Although I have to admit, I sure hope I go back to work tomorrow--there's no point in getting carried away.
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