Sickness and humility

I dislike being sick so much.  I suppose I am "attached" (read addicted) to feeling healthy.  When I noticed I had a urinary infection I thought it would go away with over the counter medicine, but it did not, and I had to do the unthinkable, see a doctor, and the even more unthinkable, take antibiotics. Me?!

I realize what a humbling experience this is for me, I absolutely hate having to take antibiotics, and there is that "hate/dislike" thought form again, my resistance to being human, my clinging to the super woman I want to believe I am and the anger that goes with it.

Then on the other hand I am so grateful to the doctor that agreed to see me on such short notice, and how she talked fast, in between patients, answering my questions and being helpful, she even lectured me when I said I would prefer to wait before taking antibiotics ("Take them or the infection can spread", she threatened me).

Two sleepless nights have done wonders to my humility,  I have noticed how my face makes painful gestures that relate to pain in other places of my body.  They are connected. When I saw a woman in the Whole Foods later on with a grim and ugly looking expression I did not judge (as in "does she not know that putting that face is not pretty?"), I understood, perhaps her tummy hurts, I get it.

Looking at women at the obgyn office I saw so much camaraderie, so much unspoken tacit understanding of our own fragility, the miracle of new life, the complications of being human, in the flesh.  I could not but calculate the amount of care, doctors, paper-work that is involved in just being alive.

So what if I only got to practice once in the past three days (yesterday while it was still bearable), I guess these lessons are also yoga.

Also, I scheduled my yearly check-up, which I had "forgotten" for last year.  "Schedule it now", was the second threat of the beautiful woman doctor. I did.

Have you had your check up?