Many people say that they wish they were the person their dogs think they are.

I wish I was the person my friends’ answering messages imply I am.

Over the past year, I’ve listened to the following messages:

“Hi Deb.  Long time no talk.  You’re probably off on some exotic vacation again.  Where is it this time?  Hawaii?  Europe?  Or are you finally doing Ireland?”

“Hi Debbie.   I guess you’re working really hard on that novel.  I just wanted….”

“Debra!  Where are you?  You’re always working.  Take a break and pick up the phone…”

“Deb, are you there? Okay, I guess you decided to go to the festival after all.”

Let’s see, the truth, in order, is that I was: working in the yard, watching television, in bed early, and charging my phone.

Pretty glamorous life, eh?

I just thought I’d tell you this before the National Inquirer does.

And Then the Drab Got Even Worse

Fast forward a few months and, as you all know, in March, I got mono.

Suddenly, the “glamorous” life my friends thought I was living turned into the drabbest life one could imagine.

Instead of doing exciting things like going to bed early and working in the yard (ahem), I found myself carrying out the exciting feat of contemplation:

Day one of mono: I pondered, in bed, for two hours, about moving from my left side to my right side.

Day two of mono: I realized you can actually be so still and bored that you can feel yourself wrinkle.

Day three of mono: I thought, for half a day, about moving to a chair.  But, it was on the far side of the room, so I let the thought pass.

Day four of mono: Excitement!–I made it to the doctor’s office where I contemplated new things, like:

•  Why do people go into examining rooms, but they never come out?
•  Doctor’s waiting rooms have to be the single most germ-filled spots on the planet, so why don’t we all meet our doctors somewhere else?

When finally back home and on the mend, I contemplated on what I am supposed to learn from illness.

The friends who know me best immediately decided I was exhausted from my always-frantic schedule.  I should say “no” more often, they agreed.

My mother thinks I was “run down.” Get more rest, she said.

Just My Joe said my immune system was weak.  More Vitamin C and garlic, he advised.

Others suggested that always-villainous “stress” was the culprit.  No one could figure out how to solve that one.

I wondered if God was trying to tell me something? Perhaps I’m supposed to spend more time in prayer and in reading His word. I know that the greatest of God’s “benefits” is that He forgives all our sins, but Psalms charges us not to forget another of God’s benefits to us — that is, He “heals all our diseases.”

Psalms 103:2-3 — Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits — who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases.

I can’t say I’ve returned to my glamorous life of yard work (again, ahem), but I know I’m on the mend.

I look forward to the day when my friends think I’m living my “glamorous” life again, because right now, the only thing I hear on my answering machine is:

“Hi Deb.  You must be resting.”

Maybe I should get a dog.