Guest Editorial: Flu lessons

Three things I learned from the flu.

1. You can’t take care of yourself.

Nearly passed out in body pain and over-all weakness, I couldn’t raise my head to answer Art when he asked if I was staying home from church. I grunted what I hoped was the obvious answer. I thought about Jell-O. Jell-O with fruit cocktail. But the only activity I actually accomplished in the next two days was to drag myself to the bathroom and sip on water to keep from dying of dehydration. I couldn’t sleep for 48 hours, strobe lights flashed behind my closed eyes, and I felt closer to death than life. Memories of our friend Dave Waidner, who died of the flu in February nine years ago, haunted me. Would I live through this? I felt so comatose, I almost didn’t care one way or the other.

2. You can’t take care of anyone else.

Art started coming down with the flu on Sunday and by that afternoon his temperature was over 101. He tried to give me Alka Seltzer, but I threw that up in less than five minutes along with anything that wasn’t plain water. That care-giving project completely wore him out and he collapsed on the sofa, coughing, groaning and entering his own foggy nether world of flu that lasted three more days. I wished I could have helped him. I love him and being his help-mate is my main mission in life. But I couldn’t do anything for him. I couldn’t move except to watch the clock, hoping that the next three days would somehow speed up and I would feel better “soon”. That hope died. Time crawled along in slow motion.

3. We needed someone to help us.

The dog needed someone to feed her and let her in and out. The stove needed wood brought in. The faucets needed to be set on drip for the cold nights. Friends called and volunteered to do anything. But as tempting as that sounded, we felt so terrible that the thought of anyone coming into the cabin was more activity that we could stand. As much as we needed help, we were too sick to greet anyone who would show up.

We’re starting to re-enter the land of the living now. I even ate some soup and soft canned asparagus today. Now that I am thinking with my brain instead of moaning, I had the thought that some people have ‘emotional flu’. Past trauma, hurtful experiences in life and some bad breaks, seem to make it difficult for them to help themselves. They’re stuck in continual bad life decisions and patterns of self-destruction. They want to get on a more positive life path, but they are over whelmed with their own personal pain, history and weakness.

They can’t seem to help themselves and they also can’t help or be concerned with others. Their own pain completely fills their own mind, emotions and life. Friends who pour love and attention into these dear ones sometimes wonder why their care isn’t reciprocated. I knew when I was paralyzed with the flu virus that I did not have one extra atom to help anyone else. I thought, “I wonder if that is why some people are always thinking about themselves. They have an emotional flu, an all-consuming pain that never goes away. They’re barely hanging on.” They need us to love and understand them even if all our efforts are rebuffed.

Hopefully, my four days in their world will make me more compassionate to the struggles and pain in other’s lives.