CAPES & SPANDEX 2

1.

Get up. Take a shower, and show up wholeheartedly. 

That was how I planned to start the first day of work. My employer has been kind enough when it comes to my regular absence due to lung health issues. I was going to go the extra 5 miles, in appreciation. They wouldn't see or feel my extra exertion, but I was determined to prove my appreciation.

When the day came, I indeed took a shower and showed up. Yes, I was working from home, but I felt the need to go through the same motions the other colleagues who go to the office went through. Silent solidarity. 

I have no clue why I do such things. Sometimes I laugh at myself and remind myself that no one sees my private theatrical actions. 

They make me happy, the said dramatic actions. I feel useful like I'm earning my place in the world. Doing my bit. 

Onwards. 

2. 

Thirty minutes past eight, I was on that laptop. Headphones on and ready to stream Hans Zimmer's masterpieces through my auditory senses. Hyping up my spirits which were already so high that I would fail a drug test just based on that. 

I let all my colleagues with joint deliverables know that I was back and ready for their queries (I was not, in fact, ready.)

I started responding to the most important emails. Chatted to my boss lady. Got a debrief from my team - bless them. Started on those projects that required my attention. 

With multiple tabs and presentations open, I felt useful again. I sat back and reflected; feeling good. 

I stood up to go and take a break and there it was, the familiar dizziness. It's not anemia, I'm taking iron supplements religiously. What now? 

I sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring any idea of lying down. I waited for the feeling to subside. After about 15 minutes, it hadn't. 

"Gosh! Can I not catch a break?!" 

Oh oh, the egotistical thoughts are creeping back. Of course, I can catch a break. I'm getting better, generally speaking. That counts as "catching a break." No? 

3.

I should have known that my blood oxygen levels were low when I was failing to remember the names of colleagues I work with daily.

I even forgot to eat breakfast. I never forget about food. No sir, no ma'am. 

Heartbroken, depressed, bereaved, I eat. I'm a gastronomist. 

I lie, I eat everything, so, more like a vacuum cleaner than a gastronomist. 

I gave up on heroism and I slept. I slept so much that I didn't hear my brother come into my room and put some snacks right next to me. By the time I woke up, the ice in my drink had melted. 

My lil' brother is sweet

I'm sad that I couldn't run to the finish line on day one. 

I'm happy that I woke up determined to do what I consider the right thing to do.

I love the work I do. 

I'm religious, so I've always prayed to be granted the qualities of humility and patience because it bothers me that I lack these.

With humility, I can learn that I'm not superhuman. I can't do everything that I set out to do in my current condition. I'd like to reach a point where I understand my limitations, without letting them stop me from high achievements. That too, not for show, but for my private satisfaction. 

I am not a superhero. I'd look great in a cape, but terrible in spandex. I can still be valuable, without hurting my body and mind. I'm not telling this to you, dear reader. I am trying to convince myself.

Next up, the gym is calling. 

Oh dear.