Being sick sucks. There's nothing like going to bed perfectly fine, only to wake up feeling a little bit off - and then get progressively worse throughout the day - to remind one of the frailty of the human body.
And what do we want when we're sick? That's right, someone to take of us.
Which leads me to my Friday night. After a day of getting progressively worse was culminating in not being 100% sure I could walk down the hall, I found myself crying into my pillow on the couch, screaming like I haven't in... probably a year. And I've had grief surges in the past year.
It was awful. It was pathetic. It reminds you exactly how much that person was always there for you.
And then, once you're cried out and no one's come running because, well, no one can hear you, you pull yourself together, manage to make it to bed, and sleep to another dawn.
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