I have been sick all day today and C spent a majority of it with me. Not necessarily for that reason, because we had different activities planned, but when he came over in the morning and saw that I was not well he quickly forfeited our plans in favor of taking care of me. I woke up feeling super off and hoped that it would get better on its own, but as we were sitting at my kitchen table having one of our classic (and bonkers) conversations about some very niche topic, I suddenly got the feeling that a faint was coming on and FAST. Now, sometimes when I get this feeling, I do what my friends call “playing it cool.” Playing it cool means that Ro is going to pass out but doesn’t want to say anything about it or draw attention to herself in hopes that it will go away without any kind of syncopal incident. At this point in my life having lived with this for nearly 13 years, I wish I would have learned to stop playing it cool around my friends, who would really rather that I choose to lay down or sit on the floor or do anything except faint with no warning. Wanna guess what Ro chose to do? You got it: faint without warning :) my heart had suddenly started pounding, my ears were ringing, I got a spinning sensation, my vision dimmed, and for those few seconds I chose to not tell C that I might pass out because something is wrong with me that makes it impossible for me to admit that I’m feeling sick.
I woke up on my right side with my head in C’s lap. I was feeling SUPER sick at this point, and I rolled back on to my back and was struggling to try and open my eyes. I heard C say, “hey, we need to get you back on your side, sorry” and then gently roll me back, which was very responsible of him since I will feel extremely nauseous after a faint and could puke. I layed on his thigh as he knelt next to me and cradled my head with one hand while he rubbed my back with the other one. I hate hate hate the “coming to” part of a faint, because I usually feel worse than before I go down. He did a great job of keeping me comfortable during that, and when I was awake and talking again, he helped me move to the couch. At first he insisted he try and get me settled back in bed, but momma didn’t raise a quitter, so our compromise was laying on the couch with him squeezing my legs to try and get some of the blood flow back to my oxygen starved noggin. My inability to admit defeat even while actively having my ass handed to me rivals that of even the most stubborn male protagonists. Except I’m not an annoyingly stoic book character, I’m a 5 foot tall disaster bi😌
Unfortunately, I did not bounce back from this one easily, and I ended up having to call out of work later that day which is a huge deal for me. Trying to sit up or lift my head up made me immediately start to pass out again, and so for an hour or two straight I just floated in an out of consciousness and tried not to throw up. Which was a success, and I’m glad I didn’t puke because that is an extra level of vulnerability that C has not seen yet (although I’m sure he would be really calm and caring). C stayed with me, and eventually covered me with a blanket and tucked a pillow under my head and pulled a chair up next to me so that he could very softly brush the back of his fingers over my cheek and forehead. It can be very hard for me to stay grounded while I feel so sick and disoriented, and gentle touch really helps me feel more stable and have something to focus on. This is also kinda comedic to look back on because it reminds me of those scenes in old cowboy westerns where the main character is sick/injured and laying in bed in a haze, and his love interest is fretting over him and hoping he pulls through😂😂
Eventually I was able to sit up and he gave me a few sips of Gatorade, which miraculously did not immediately make a reappearance, and then I laid back down and went to sleep for a solid half of the day. When I woke back up, we snuggled and watched some Netflix, and then he left in the evening.
I was talking to my friend about C and she said “I'm glad he is looking to be a promising hurt/comfort costar.” So many people in my irl life really do appreciate some good hurt/comfort, so I like to hope that C feels the same way and enjoys being there for me in the way that I would if it was him who was sick. I have my surgery here in a few days, and C is bringing me and then will be taking care of me afterwards. It should be a pretty easy recovery, but after I’m better, he’s leaving again. He said that he’s staying because he wants to get me through my surgery and make sure that I’m taken care of, but after that, he doesn’t have anything keeping him in our little home town and he needs to head back to his life. I almost wish he wouldn’t have told me, because now I’m going to be sick and in pain AND ALSO devastated that my hallmark fling turned love-of-my-motherfucking-life is leaving, even when we both knew it was going to end this way at some point. It’s also sweet that he chose to stay a little longer to be with me when I have plenty of friends who would have volunteered to take me to the procedure and stay with me afterwards. He said he wanted to do it because “I gotta take care of you and make sure you’re better.”
So yeah, this next week is gonna
but also I am grateful for the time we got together, I just wish I was a little healthier for it
