Notes from the Sickbed

Is it okay to indulge in a pity party, even if our complaints are minor? I wrestled with this dilemma two weeks ago when COVID hit again and I realized: This thing is still nasty. My husband got it first and felt absolutely awful. Fortunately, he recovered quickly — just in time to take care of me. 

I try not to feel sorry for myself when things go wrong or I don’t feel well. Living with chronic headaches for my entire life, I’ve had loads of practice. Judaism has helped enormously, teaching me to keep perspective and to count my blessings every day, no matter what. I wake up saying “Modah ani lefanecha,” thanking God for giving me another day and remembering so many people have it much harder than I do. 

By nature I am optimistic and even-keeled. And yet when I got sick this time, I was in no mood to trot out that cheerful, positive attitude. I wanted to wallow in self-pity, to release my inner grump, let it off-leash and run wild! And why not? My head felt like it was in a vise and the rest of my body wasn’t much better. When I looked in the mirror on the second day of my illness, my head nearly exploded. Did I really look this bad, or was COVID messing with my eyesight? I had no appetite, but even that didn’t cheer me up. 

But what a time to feel self-absorbed! Who was I to complain about anything when our brothers and sisters in Israel live in anticipation of the next siren sending them to a bomb shelter? When we’re all anxious from the metastasizing virus of antisemitism, with no apparent vaccine in sight? Now, not only was I exhausted by the idea of keeping perspective, I was front-loading Jewish guilt to my COVID misery. Really, did I have to overthink everything?

I decided to stop fighting and gave in to the temptation to feel sorry for myself for as long as it took until I felt better. Maybe, working along with the decongestants, self-absorption would have some healing effects. Other people self-medicated through self-absorption all the time! Maybe it could work for me? After decades of doling out empathy and sympathy to family and friends, I figured, this was my moment to wallow. I had earned it. That was my story and I was sticking with it. I hoped my husband, Jeff, would continue to bring me bowls of soup and chamomile tea while my behavior was so annoying.

After decades of doling out empathy and sympathy to family and friends, I figured, this was my moment to wallow. I had earned it. That was my story and I was sticking with it. I hoped my husband, Jeff, would continue to bring me bowls of soup and chamomile tea while my behavior was so annoying. 

While in bed, I tried to catch up on some reading. I pulled out Geraldine Brooks’ “Year of Wonders,” which had been on my nightstand for months. But reading about a 17th-century English village whose inhabitants were mostly wiped out by the bubonic plague was not the balm my soul needed. I picked up something lighter, a mystery, only to realize I couldn’t think straight enough to pick up the clues the author was sprinkling along the way. I resorted to binge-watching “All Creatures Great and Small,” which is sweet and charming and doesn’t feature anything disturbing, like war, mental illness, or plague. The most alarming thing on that show is the occasional breech birth of a sheep. Yes, this would make me feel better.

My kids and close friends called and texted regularly to see how I was feeling. My 3- and 4-year-old grandkids sang an adorable get-well song for me which was recorded, and I watched it about 10 times. My daughter-in-law and a good friend brought us food for Shabbat, and Jeff kept the soup and tea coming. Under these waves of care, I began to revive.  

Nearly two weeks later, I’m still not 100%, so I’d appreciate more text messages with sympathetic emojis. Besides, what if this is long COVID? Why else am I still so tired, and even felt dizzy this morning? Oh — it’s time to stop. My visit to Self-Absorption Island is over. I could still use some more chicken soup, but thank God, I’m well enough to make it myself.

Judy Gruen is the author of “Bylines and Blessings,” “The Skeptic and the Rabbi,” and several other books. She is also a book editor and writing coach.