For the last few weeks, I have been itching to go somewhere, and do something which involves other people. The holidays have come and gone, and I was not invited to go anywhere. I am disheartened to see photo after photo of fun parties and social events with folks wearing sparkly clothing and wide-eyed smiles.
Today, I woke up and remembered my church Sunday school class was having a party some time soon. Was it today? Was it next week? I could not remember the time or date. Thankfully, I was able to contact a Sunday school class member via Facebook to retrieve the necessary information.
I arrive an hour late to the event. Everyone is finished munching on the lovely food displayed around the kitchen. The hostess decides it is now time to play a game. Everyone is to tell a fact or short story about themselves. It can either be true or a lie. The game is played, and I am grateful I do not have to move. I simply have to listen to people talk. An hour passes when the game comes to a conclusion. I am exhausted. If allowed to, I would curl up on the floor and take a nap. My lungs feel heavy and congested with sputum. I am trying with all my might to not constantly cough my head off. I need to get home and run my nebulizer to loosen up the thick sputum in my lungs.
As I am packing up my ventilator and heading for the door, a sweet, smiling woman approaches me. "Will I see you tomorrow?" I am baffled. What is tomorrow? There is no church. Bible study is on Tuesdays. I remain clueless. I ask, "What is going on tomorrow?" The smiling woman replies, "Game night!" Oh, yes, I remember. My church hosts a weekly game night in the winter months. In a churlish tone, I reply, "No. I rarely leave the house." I bluntly end the conversation and leave the party.
I feel bad. My tone of voice was sharp with the woman. I did not intend to be mean to her. I was tired. I am annoyed the woman thought I had energy to play several hours worth of games when I was dragging to just get through one hour of sitting upright using a ventilator to breathe. I know she was trying to be nice, but when I get tired, my social skills wane.
When I arrive home and rest comfortably in my bed with my nebulizer running, allowing me to cough up endless amounts of sticky sputum, I suddenly feel overwhelmed with sorrow. I wonder if the woman was offended by my words. I wonder if my words came off as discourteous as they sounded in my head. I pray to God that He can help this woman understand that I did not intend to be rude. I was just tired and in need of a nap. Oh well. At least my craving for social interaction has been quenched, and now I will think twice about going anywhere knowing my socialite skills quickly deteriorate when my energy levels run low.
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