Sick Day

 

It's 4:07 AM on Saturday. I guess I am going to get in the habit of writing these dreams down in the middle of the night, since I can't get back to sleep right away anyway.

I was living in Paradise, though the house was my current house. I was still working at Yuba City Honda in a limited capacity and taking care of Sharon. Although bedridden, she was somewhat able to self-ambulate using a wheelchair. Transfers were tricky, and she'd frequently wind up on the floor while was at work.

"I'm just so glad you are back," I told her, bending down to give her a hug.

My affection was genuine, and my tender administration of personal care was without rancor. I realized that Sharon being alive again was a miracle and that I was being given a chance to do things better this time. She smiled up at me, glad to not be the recipient of my anger and frustration for a change.

I was, however, getting frazzled. The time was getting close for me to leave for work, and I had the usual number of duties to perform before I could safely leave her alone for the day. Each last minute item ticked precious minutes off of the clock, and doing the math in my head, I realized that I was going to be late no matter what I did.

I had been planning to drive her power chair to work. Rolling into the shop in a wheelchair always garnered sympathy from my co-workers. When I looked at the clock, and it was already 8:07, I knew that I'd have to take my car instead. It was an hour commute down Hwy 99 by car, so I don't even know what I was thinking with the wheelchair business. It would have taken all day. 

I was still picking up things from the floor, trying to ensure that Sharon would have a trouble free day. I had about three pair of shoes that I was planning to take to work, but I couldn't find the shirt to my uniform. I looked around in all the drawers, but I only made a bigger mess rifling through the clothes.

There was a UV strobelight that was blinking at a frequency that resonated with the plaids and patterns on my shirts, making everything appear a uniform blue. This made it impossible to identify my uniform from the other clothes in the drawer. I shoved the clothes back in the drawer and looked around for the source of the strobelight, but I couldn't find it.

I looked at the clock again and it was 9:15. I was well past late already, and was likely considered missing in action by now. I picked up the phone to call in. I figured I could talk to someone down there and ask how busy they were, and perhaps I could use a sick day. 

"Yuba City Honda. How may I direct your call?" It was Sherry. She was always sympathetic, and was usually able to gauge the likelihood of my absence causing a problem. 

"How busy are you guys today, Sherry?" I asked, wincing as I waited for her reply.

"Not too busy," she said. "Are you planning on calling in sick? I think they have enough guys to cover it."

I was relieved. I thanked her, and that was that. I wasn't going to work after all. I knew that my not being missed at work wasn't altogether a good thing and didn't bode well for my future there. I didn't care, though. I couldn't. Things had been at their breaking point with my juggling of work and caregiving for some time now.

I slowly began picking up the items that I'd carelessly strewn about when I'd been so frantic to leave. I woke up, a little anxious still, but glad for the overall outcome of the dream. I had made the right choice, staying home with Sharon. Seeing her alive again, up and about in any capacity, however limited, is always such a pleasant surprise. 

5:07 AM. Back to sleep, to try to catch the sequel.