The past 84 hours have convinced me of this: sickness, like raising children, should be reserved for young folk! Last Friday night Annis, Michael and I ate supper at Carrabba’s. I ate Spideno DiMari (shrimp and scallops). By the time I got home, I was well-aware of a certain rumbling in my innards. We watched a movie and the rumbling intensified. Around 10:00, I went to bed, feeling like I had a bowling ball stuck somewhere between my mouth and my gizzard. Try as I might, I could not get it to come up or go down. All night long, I wrestled with it, to no avail. Somewhere around 4:00 AM, I made my way to a recliner in the den, hoping to elevate my chest enough to get some relief. No relief came. In fact the misery only intensified. I think it was around 7:00 AM when I realized that the bowling ball was about to exit via my mouth. I headed for the toilet. Fast! I made it but only part of the bowling ball escaped. What relief, even if I did still have 3/4 of it still inside. Everything is relative. Back to bed, I headed. Still. Motionless. Hoping and praying that Jesus would come soon. Around an hour or so later, the rest of that bowling ball decided to make its exit. Back to the toilet. Fast! I almost didn’t make it. I had no idea I had eaten that much in the past month, much less the past night. Okay. Everything will get better now. Wrong! Things did not get better, they worsened. No, the vomiting never returned, but my appetite completely abandoned me and I did not blame it. The thought of scallops made me nauseous. Still does! It will be a while before I will want any more. Most of you know me rather well, so you know that my idea of fun does NOT include being in bed for 84 running hours, with only brief escapes for necessities. On a few occasions, I was certain that death was imminent. I checked to be sure my “Last Will & Testament” was in its place. I even wondered if I might not have one of those “out of body” experiences and get a glimpse of the other side, but Michael was burning some toast and the smell of smoke scared me so badly that I woke up. I was glad I did! Finally, Tuesday morning arrived and, for the first time in 84 hours, I thought I might live after all. It was a sunny day to boot! I was ready to get back in the saddle and ride off into my usual escapades, but that was only short-lived. Somewhere during this time, my “get up and go” “got up and went.” Thankfully, however, most of the day (Tuesday) has been rather calm, but I am as weak as a wet noodle. I am looking forward to some supper (I think!) unless it is scallops (I know!). I know that some of you prayed for me, but either God was mad at me, or your praying for the sick is much like mine, because I stayed sick. On the other hand, if you had not prayed, I might still be between the sheets, begging for mercy.
I really do appreciate all of your prayers, even those of you who meant to pray and forgot to do it. God knows the heart! And that is a good thing!
At this point, I really believe the scallops had nothing to do with this, and I contracted a virus, the same one that some of you enjoyed. With the exception of Bob White, you were all much younger than we, so ours was much worse than yours. If you don’t believe me, ask Bob.
Sickness, like raising children, should be reserved for the young folk. Us old folk just ain’t suited for it.
Most sincerely,
Mac
Grace Christian Fellowship 