Illness

We’ve all had these dreams.

Trudging down twisting corridors forlornly searching for our destination.

But it wasn’t a dream. I was stumbling about RDU Airport looking for the gate from which Alexandra would emerge.

This March I’ve been either sick three times or continually ill with illusory recoveries. Last Monday evening while trying to finish tidying up the house my musculoskeletal system had firmly signaled regardless of my intent, despite stimulants that I should go to sleep.

But sleep wasn’t an option and by the time I got to the airport I must’ve resembled an arthritic prospect lost in the desert.

Alexandra was arriving by a different airline, hence a different terminal. The departure gates in the old terminal were spacious. Here I eventually realized they were openings in the wall fed by escalators.

Happily when I did finally spy Alexandra most of the tiredness fell away. Once we settled that her luggage had been left at JFK we were on our way home.

Back at the shanty I was finally able to give her the Tahitian pearl necklace I’d bought her for Christmas. And some of my own sickness.

Alexandra seems to have recovered. My ears still have that long familiar feeling that lets me know an infection is still present. Presumably that virus that is, as they say, “going around.”

Sorry, no kinky doings to report. (Though I noticed that she’d been rereading Flogging last night.)

Setbacks and disappointments aside it has been a joy to snuggle up and hold her in my arms. More strenuous pleasures will hopefully follow shortly.