September 05, 2010

Home. Sick.

I am at home, of sorts.  I am sick.  I guess that makes me home, sick.  And homesick.

A very unfriendly virus has decided to prey on me, leaving me listless and shivering and in several kinds of pain.  Daniel is still in America.  My boys are still young, and the amount of work it takes to keep them dressed and fed is enough to bring me to tears when my very bones seem to be aching and I can't swallow nor keep anything in my stomach.

Don't worry too much, Mom.  Remember that I am dramatic, especially in writing.

I am taking Amoxicillin, though I doubt this thing will go down that easily.  What I would like to do is praise my friends here in this city for picking up the reins and going out of their way to help us.  Before I got sick, my friend Amy took me out for coffee to get me out of the house.  Since getting sick, Brooke, Marianne, Anita, and Alisa have brought food, milk, and juice.  Jeremy brought me the antibiotics.  Alisa and John, with the help of our new friends Kate and Michelle (and maybe Kristy, I'm not sure) took all three boys to the fields this afternoon to let them run, and then fed them dinner on a picnic blanket.  While they were gone, I took a long nap, sipped on a bowl of egg drop soup followed by a bit of strawberry jello with whipped cream, and enjoyed the quiet and some rest.

Though it would be nice not to be on the other side of the world from my husband and my mom, I am enjoying the bright Spring City sunshine and the warmth of my own bed.  Just now I felt the wind blow in and it smelled like ginger and onions and mountains.  I am alone in the house (I mean, apartment) in a city that was as foreign to me two years ago as the moon, probably more so, and yet, because people are good enough to care, I am going to be ok.

Kindness goes a long way.