"Anyone who cannot come to terms with his life while he is alive needs on hand to ward off a little his despair over his fate—he has little success in this—but with the other hand he can note down what he sees among the ruins, for he sees different (and more) things than do the others; after all, dead as he is in his own lifetime, he is the real survivor. This assumes that he does not need both hands, or more hands than he has, in his struggle against despair."--Kafka



Saturday, July 3, 2010

感冒

友人跟我慶祝生日的六月十九日那天,已是病,頭痛得不得了,喝了杯薑母茶,好了一點。但之後逐漸喉痛,聲沙,還在聲沙時拼命cold call,封了喉,看了西醫,好了一點。六月最後一天,上禪坐班,進出殮房,受冷了,病況又重新壞下去,流鼻水,咳嗽,疲乏。七一沒法子去,七二連忙看中醫,喝了藥湯,冒了一身汗,在家休息去。

很少病如此久的。

感冒使人內疚,不是甚麼大病痛,連請假也沒藉口,卻令你疲乏至死,上班時思念床舖,腦袋沉重,思考轉不過來,拖挎工作進度。最內疚是近日常面對癌症康復者,個個笑靨如花,手腳靈活,還在問候我的病況,唉唉,怎好意思被芝麻綠豆的小病折磨得沒有鬥志?挺下去又好像沒有能量,覺得自己太不像話了吧。

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