Sickness can be a great tool for sharpening one’s perception of life and what really matters.
Or maybe it’s malaria in particular, with the hell-to-Arctic temperature fluctuations and brain-resetting headaches.
Anyhow, when you’re flattened on your bed like a plastic bottle that has been in a road accident with a tanker, you see things quite differently.
For me, a couple of things didn’t look quite the same:
It just did not mean as much. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, but at no point did I get a call that everything was going to the dogs because I wasn’t there to do my part. Quite humbling, really.
*points shaved of sense of self-importance*
Question: Do you really matter in your world or do you just think you do?
I mean, all I wanted was to get well. I wasn’t concerned about having fun, making more money or crossing entries off some bucket list. If I could just stop shivering while also sweating like a pickpocket cornered in an Arab market, that would mean the world.
*perspective on how much I really need to be satisfied shifted*
Question: What can you absolutely not live without?
Look, physical discomfort is not a sustainable model for learning life lessons unless you’re an Indian guru whose body is fairly adjusted to hot coals or a bed of nails.
For the rest of us, we’re grateful for the experience, but never again. I’m going to get that mosquito net now.