Sick is Scary

Yesterday, Neil got sick. It started shortly after a trip to our bagel shop for lunch. He was nauseous and his whole body felt weak. We thought it was brought on by the fumes from cleaning stuff we were using to clean the bathroom at the time, but he kept feeling ill for the rest of the day. We went to sleep at 11 and he tossed and turned and at 2 he woke up and went into the kitchen where he got dizzy and light-headed and then puked. The point of this is not to describe Neil's illness as much as it is to point out that I was terrified by it. Neil is never sick, so I am sure that was part of it, but I also just got worried.

"What if he doesn't get better," I wondered. "What if he has a really bad kind of poisoning?"

When I'm sick, I don't think those thoughts about myself. I just think, "Must get better, must get better." It's that caring about someone else thing that got me last night. I wasn't sick, so I had enough time to worry about Neil.

We're pretty sure he got sick from the lox on the bagel... and luckily, he is feeling better (but not all better) today. When we woke up this morning and he was the right color again, I felt a huge wave of relief. It felt so good, that I didn't mind all the worry from the night before. I love being in love with someone so much that it feels wonderful when a worry about their well-being fades away. Not sure if I'm making a whole lot of sense here -- it's been a long day.