Physically or Spiritually Ill?

Marc and I ended up riding the train to Copley Square and walking to the top of Newbury Street to the North Face to pick up his jacket.

As he searched the racks, my well-being progressively became not-so-well. I grew weak and began sweating profusely and had to sit on the steps inside the store while I waited for him to chat with the salesman. I finally stood and said, “I’m going to wait outside for you. It’s really warm in here.”

As I exited the store, a strange and familiar feeling washed over me. I knew I was about to faint and I panicked and by the time I got outside, all I could do was hold onto the railing and try to stay on my feet. My lights were going out and I knew if I let go of the railing I was going down. I have only almost fainted one other time in my life. The feeling is very strange, as though someone is turning a light dimmer down. Everything looks the same, except that suddenly, the world appears less colorful, more gray and dim. I wanted to call for help, but my voice wouldn’t work, nor would my normal capacity to form words. I could see a bench about ten feet away, but I just could not let go of the railing without falling to the ground.

After a few minutes, Marc came out and asked me if i was okay. I couldn’t really answer him. I could barely shake my head back and forth to indicate “No.” He rubbed my back, which made me feel so cared about and reminded me of how Chris made me feel all of those years. Marc asked me if I wanted to sit down on the bench and once again, I could not answer him. I shook my head again. Then I said to him, “I think I’m going to throw up.” and he said, “You do?” and then it happened. Right there, in public, in broad daylight, I vomited against the wall of the North Face while excited holiday consumes bustled about spending gift cards and returning unwanted gifts. I could not have cared less. Embarrassment was the last thing on my mind.

I felt better instantly, except for the aching muscles in my legs, arms, back and head. Marc helped me over to the rain-soaked bench where I sat with my head down for about ten minutes. He offered to hail a cab for me and give me the money to get home, but remembering the ideals of my fabulous husband, I said, “No. I am NOT giving my money to the man. I can get home by train.” After a few moments, I stood and we slowly walked to the subway station. Marc returned to work and I went home.

With the help of Advil PM, I slept from 8:30 last night until 2:00 today. My aches are gone, as is my nausea. I have not eaten a morsel in twenty-nine and a half hours and I’m not hungry at all. Way to jump right back on Weight-Watchers, right?

The thought that all of this may have been brought on by the anniversary of Chris’ final hospital stay and his final days on earth scares and amazes me. I really don’t know what the cause of my sudden illness was. I suppose it could have been psychosomatic. Aside from my physical ailments, I don’t feel sick. I don’t have a cold. I just experienced a bizarre breakdown of my ability to function. I don’t know if a person can have the flu for a few hours, or not. I really don’t know what happened. I only know that I feel so much more able to function in the safety of my apartment today and I am a little nervous about my return to the real world tomorrow.

I can do it, especially knowing that I have an appointment with Clay after work.

Beaten,
Shneed