Nine days after my visit to Emergency for a migraine, I was there again, this time for what turned out to be an intestinal viral infection. Being sick is no fun. Neither is being chained to the toilet, so full of gas that the tummy is bloated and rock hard nor pain so severe that it prompts the patient to rock back and forth for hours, crying out for Mommy despite her advanced age. There is nothing one can do for a viral infection, except to treat the symptoms. "Take Tylenol and drink lots of water," the doctor said.
A Google search produced information about the BRAT diet for those with upset tummies: Bananas, Rice, Apples, Toast. These are the foods that are easiest on the stomach, apparently, and have binding properties. Thankfully, the predicted one-week duration of said infection was shortened to three or four days and I was able to eat my first proper meal last night in celebration of Father's Day.
I'm so glad I didn't miss it. Tom wanted a barbeque for his Father's Day meal and, since I was sick, went out and bought (and cooked) the best of his favourites:
New York Strip Steaks
Steamed Asparagus Spears
Sparkling Grape Juice
(from the vineyards of Branson, Missouri)
After we sat down, Tom took two bites, realized he was too nauseous to eat anymore and vacated himself to bed while the rest, none of us fathers, enjoyed the Father's Day feast and the reparté that inevitably occurs when the family gathers. I am glad to report that Tom's inability to eat turned out to be temporary and he consumed his by-then-cold dinner a few hours later, vowing to never again pay the price he did for the steaks he bought.
Being ill, combined with my dysthymia, has kept me from doing much of anything that requires thought or action, including spending time in my prayer room and writing. Hopefully, today is the beginning of change. I have spent much time this afternoon considering the Trinity but none of my reading and studying has formed into the cohesion of thought required to write about it. Maybe later. (Though I notice I'm writing in a slightly different style than usual, which I will attribute to my reading of Augustine.)