Cooking, sans appetite

People don’t talk about the feeling of being sick, the in-between from when you fall ill to when you weakly look at people and say “I’ve been feeling under the weather,  but I’m getting better.”

Today is not that day for me. I’m not feeling better, and since the reason I feel this way is because of medicine I’m taking, it’ll be another two days before I feel better, most likely. Part of my fatigue today is also a persistent and total lack of appetite; I shove down enough food to take my medicine, but otherwise, I have no interest. This is funny, because one of the only things that seems to be able to get me out of bed is still… cooking.

Granted, it was two very simple things that I made yesterday: a crock pot stew with a pile of potatoes from the garden in it, and a tray full of yeast rolls. They both turned out perfectly, to my great surprise, but when I personally tried to eat them, I just had no interest at all. I did some math this afternoon that made me happy though: I made 12 rolls, and ate one of them. There are 7 left now. That means that 4 of these perfect fluffy yeast rolls found their way into Husband’s belly, or lunchbox for work today.

Being sick makes me feel like I cannot accomplish anything, but one of the cool things about being married is that every interaction is a way to do something good in the world – when I take a deep breath instead of lashing out about pain, when I smile and laugh at the goofy jokes Husband tells just to make me smile, and yes, when I use the small bursts of energy I’ve got to make an easy meal with some surprisingly delightful bread; all of these are ways that I’m still having an impact on the world. Single people do the same thing in their interactions, but it has never been more apparent to me than it is now, in this first year of marriage. I’m trying to be grateful for little blessings even as I look forward to being able to dive head-first into my daily tasks again soon.