Illness and Inefficiency

During my adult life, I enjoyed exceptionally good health. Consequently, I find that being ill, especially in the context of terminal decline, to be frustratingly inefficient. I have spent the last 12 hours or so, starting about 5 PM yesterday, dealing with a low-grade fever, bodily pain, diarrhea and slight nausea. I have been able to eat only small portions of food and sleep only in stretches of about an half an hour. No interactions with people outside my immediate household, no writing, no reading, only small snatches of television.

An existence consisting primarily of tending to my miseries while in inexorable decline is not only boring, but also strikes me as self-indulgent and ignominious. I am very fortunate that, so far, I have still been able to work most days with my colleagues-- via email, Skype and FedEx-- in recasting this blog into a book. Otherwise, I would have no project and little work to show for my waning days.