Sickness and the Writer

Be it physical, emotional, or spiritual, there are many forms of sickness. When one is sick, the body signals its duress like a foghorn in a library. Other people sense it too. “Hey, you look like death” is a good indicator, I’d say. But ultimately, something of the body needs attention; something is amiss. Whatever makes you function – for achieving maximum output – has dropped to a lower level of efficiency. That’s what being ‘sick’ is comprised of. Here’s my most recent example:

I have a cold.

Boo hoo, right? I don’t want to come off as complaining; it’s just a fact. Catching a cold is a part of life. If you don’t experience this delight of nature, then I say ‘bravo’ to you. As for me? I’ve experienced colds in great consistency throughout my entire life. I’ve been tested for allergies – nothing. I’ve taken Vitamin C tablets regularly – no change. I work out on a regular basis – nada. I’ve even drank enough herbal tea to reenact the Boston Tea Party and yet – the cold still comes to pass. It’s inevitable. Happening just when things are progressing forward too. The cold bug strikes and I’m left in disarray, scrambling to recover what energy and fervor I’d lost. But as maddening as it can be, I find solace in one thing: I can still write.

Writing may be one of the few vocations where a flu, a cold, or strep throat do little to halt the creative process. At least from my perspective. I may be hacking up phlegm in a toilet, but at least my mind is still working. And so long as that’s intact; so long as that’s feeling sharp, I can put my thoughts to the keyboard and continue on the adventure. I’ll sneeze. I’ll cough. I’ll blow my nose. But when I’m done, I’ll put my fingers back on the keyboard and start typing again. With minimal resistance other than a severe runny nose. Easily remedied with a few tissues.

So in the midst of feeling miserable, that’s something to rejoice in, is it not? Yes, I would argue so. *cough*


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