Big Girls Don’t Cry…Until We're Sick

Have you ever seen the Sex in the City where Samantha gets really sick and is in her apartment alone and finally defeats to an all out cry fest? That was me Saturday.

Suspicious symptoms had been creeping in for a couple weeks, and I could feel the hard work of my body fighting the mystery off. I really hadn’t suffered from anything (viral or bacterially anyway) all winter- and well, I was feeling pretty cocky. I was sure it had been my clove of roasted garlic & dried fig a day.

Then it hit me. It started with painful breathing during an early AM workout. How annoying- so I cut the cardio to 45 minutes. By 12pm I was in the center of my bed unable to move. My skin hurt, breathing hurt, my eyes hurt, my BONES hurt, my muscles felt like I’d just done the Ironman, and I had a fever so high I was sweating and chilled and drifting into weird consciousness states. It was then that I started to cry. And wow did I cry. I cried harder than I’ve cried in a very long time. Why was I crying exactly? I guess partly because I felt sorry for myself, and partly because I realized how utterly hopeless we can be when our body decides to play mean tricks on us. I suppose another reason was the sheer loneliness of being sick. Once you’re of a certain age, you can’t really complain or get sympathy for being ill…as we’ve all been there/done that. Really the only people you can be a baby with are your significant other (non-existent) or your mom (unfortunately passed away). The absence of cable or movies or magazines or books that aren't deep, heavy novels may have also contributed to the crying. In fact, I'm sure it played a big part.

Yet, just when I thought I was going to die alone in my apartment from dehydration and a fever (how embarrassing), my Grandmother called. Immediately she sensed how ill I was and sympathized and worried about me. Do you have soup? Don’t go work out! Do you even have juice? Then she sent my Dad, who brought with him a stock of drugs so large he looked like he was starting a meth lab, and more food than I've ever had in my posession. And the juice was even low-sugar!

It was the most wonderful thing in the world. It made me realize that those instincts to be nurtured, babied, sympathized with- you never ever grow old of.

Then I started crying when Kanye sang at the Grammy’s. I may be going a little overboard with this crying thing…