I was sick for about two months. It was so bad that I kept indoors the whole time, I barely even had strength to go from room to room. I was sleeping most of the time and in between sleep I would yell out in great pain. At a certain point I stayed almost a week without eating.
A medical professional was called and prescriptions were made. I took the drugs, first tablets, and when they had no effect, injections. But even the injections had no effect on the terrible illness that was debilitating my body.
It happened that I had a habit of always retreating to the backyard of our apartment to spend some time. This particular spot was breezy and quiet and I loved staying there to engage in intellectual stuff or just to pass the time snuffing up social media entertainment. But the only problem was the place usually swarmed with mosquitoes especially as dusk started to descend and also sometimes the winds became very bad.
My dad and my mom (when she's alive) often warned me of overstaying at this spot while muttering about malaria and pneumonia. My dad was presently saying that maybe the mosquito bites I had received there and the harsh winds must caused my illness.
I contemplated what he said and saw a bit of truth in it. I had long wanted to stop spending time there but there were few places in our house as conducive and secluded as there. As I lay in bed shivering, I thought maybe the sickness was the music I had to face for doing something wrong.
But,
"I wish I could recover early enough from this health affliction to go about my tasks." Was all I could mutter.
Or,
"This just too much now. I dont think I can bear it any longer."
But never,
"Maybe I will stop going to my backyard retreat."
Of course all the while I was sick, I couldn't retreat to my favourite spot, I barely imagined myself doing that, actually I was in no mood to imagine anything at all but just sleep and sleep. Sleep made me oblivious to the intense pain that was racking my shaky frame. I was lucky that the sickness began subsiding and eventually disappeared after several rounds of medication.
Three months later, after this ordeal…well…you would find me at evenings sitted at the same very damned spot, either turning pages or scrolling my phone. Well, I took comfort in the fact that I was only staying for brief moments and so nothing bad would happen. Sometimes I used extra clothing to keep the mosquitoes and the cold at bay.
One other thought that keeped me going back to that spot is that I was not yet convinced my staying there caused me to fall sick, because I've been frequenting this spot over the years, about 13, and nothing that serious happened.
Sometimes I also retreated to this spot to ease my mind and have a moment of retrospection, so it seemed I and the backyard spot were inseperable, and all the warnings of my parents kinda fell on deaf ears. In fact I've tried to heed the warnings with little result.
The fact is that I'm a deeply introverted person and I love my personal space. I love moments of calm and quietness. During this moments, I usually engage in deep thought, learn a few things or just enjoy the moment. Before the year runs out I'm planning to rent a new apartment in a quiet neighborhood, then I would have lots of those calm moments to myself.
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