Fun times of youth cures all my ills

I’m trying very hard to recover from the ‘flu that I’ve had since Dec. 28.
I’m just barely clinging to a sense of humour as I continue to cough up a lung, sleepless night after sleepless night, while I lie in bed feeling as though I am the only one in the world suffering with the ‘flu and wishing I had shares in Kleenex stock.
Poor me. Where did I put my violin?
One of my favourite movie lines is from “The Devil Wears Prada,” where Emily Blunt’s character says she is one stomach ‘flu away from her ideal weight. I laugh every time I’m sick, not because I’m sick but because I think of that movie line.
What do I do in between bouts of coughing and raging fever? I watch curling on YouTube. I stay away from anything Trump-like because I fear that would push me over the edge. And I imagine activities that made me laugh when I was little.
First, I picture myself clinging for life to our large wooden toboggan–my hands laced through the ropes as my brother tows my sister and I around the hay field with the snowmachine and doing everything in his power to dump us off.
Sherry and I would laugh so hard we could hardly breathe, and eventually we’d end up in a snow bank, feet over our head, snow up our sleeves and down our neck, but still laughing.
Laurie always won that contest. When it was our turn to drive, we could never dump him and so we had to declare him the king of that particular event. He enjoyed being the king, as only older brothers can.
My dad, meanwhile, used to create the most amazing flying saucer runs. He hauled water and carved banks and tunnels, and we were the luckiest kids on earth. I’m careening down the hill now on our battered aluminum flying saucer and I forget about coughing.
And then I am sliding off the barn roof into the snow–at the back side of the barn where eyes that might not approve can’t see us.
When I’ve done with that, I make mental lists of what I will do when I am healed and when the roaring in my ears is silenced and I can speak without coughing. The list always includes cleaning closets and drawers and organizing things.
I always have great aspirations of organization when I’m sick. In fact, my health depends upon it.
Then there’s the to-do list of things I’d like to do that I have never done. I’ve never been ice-fishing, for instance. I can’t believe I grew up in Northwestern Ontario and have never been ice-fishing (I should probably be ashamed or something).
I’ll add that to the list. Oh, and then there’s the fiddle thing.
But now I’m tired and think I’ll close my eyes and pretend that I am out on the ice on a bright, warm-ish sunny day and I am fishing.
Now all I need to do is get better. How hard can it be?
wendistewart@live.ca