I feel that writing about my past experiences of illness is pretty apt right now as I am still down with the terrible flu. Had an important presentation today at work, and I was pretty optimistic yesterday that I would be able to attend. But I woke up today...with no voice. Had no choice but to take another sick day. Thank God my group members are amazing and they carried the load magnificently. Between the concoctions of symptoms of fever, body ache, headache, sore throat and painful coughing, I have just been in bed the whole day watching meaningless TV programmes on my laptop. Idle Ayne is an impatient Ayne. I do not do well with doing nothing. And on top of that, being quarantined within 4 walls does not help in the slightest - I need fresh air soon.
The experiences today very much mirrored my post-surgery days a few months ago. However, it was much worse then, as the swelling and the sharp pain from the stitches where my wisdom teeth once were woke me up at night. Some nights, the pain (already partially drowned by strong pain killers) would draw me to tears. It was like a screw drilling into my gums, and nothing I do alleviated it. Unfortunately, even A was helpless. He would stroke my hair until the exhaustion from either the pain or the crying would finally lull me into peaceful slumber albeit temporarily.
I took 5 days off from work, and it took about a week to properly recover. The worst thing about everything was actually not the pain, but the fact that I had to live off of a liquid diet for a week. Even worse, the stitches gave off a metallic taste - nothing tasted right. Bless A for preparing delicious porridges and soups to last me the week, but after a while I just craved solid food - rice, pasta, bread - all the simple stuff I would usually take for granted normally.
When the swelling finally subsided and the pain wore off, I could slowly talk again. And even more slowly, chew again. After days of being on house arrest, A and I went out for a meal. We ventured down to central London to a restaurant we have never tried before. It served quasi-Anglo-Indian cuisine - something that sounded so appealing after the week-long liquid diet. Being the cheese lover that I am, I ordered the blue cheese naan. It tasted amazing! Perfectly marking the end of my recovery period, and the beginning to normal everyday life. I ate the naan slowly, savouring every bite. The metallic taste was gone so the tanginess of the cheese was so well complemented with the sourness of the tamarind dip - absolute bliss!
Funny how little mundane everyday tasks, like eating bread, could bring one so much joy after that said liberties were taken away for whatever reason. Yes, I am physically hurting now. My ability to have a voice has been temporarily taken, and even as a quiet person, I miss it in its absence. This brings home that nothing is truly ours. This body, this mind, this house, this life is not within my rights to own - as quickly as it was loaned to me, even more quickly it can be taken away. Living in a realm of non-permanence is a skill that I have to work on for my entire life. And may Allah swt support me in this journey and may I always be reminded of my place.
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