The Five Stages
April 21, 2015 at 12:40 am 1 comment
1. Denial / Isolation
You are sick. You haven’t been able to keep down any food or drink for 24 hours. All you want is ginger ale.
You claw your way out from under the covers and drop your feet to the floor. You stand. Swaying, staggering, hunched against the pain, you go to the kitchen, hoping that, maybe, there might be ginger ale.
You know there is no ginger ale in your house. You rarely buy pop of any kind. You have not purchased, bagged, carried, or placed into your refrigerator any ginger ale for at least a year, maybe two.
And yet. You persevere, stumbling the last few feet to the kitchen, hanging onto the counter, gasping for breath, grasping the handle of the refrigerator door.
There is no ginger ale.
You are alone.
2. Anger
It’s been 48 hours. There is still no ginger ale.
The grocery store is far away and heavily populated. And, even if no one saw your Circus Hair, the thought of having to go somewhere makes you weep.
You stand at the dining room window, staring in the direction of the Rite Aid at the bottom of your street. Hands tighten, knuckles whiten as you recall the neighborhood meeting when everyone said, “That won’t work!” And PennDot said, “Sure it will work!” and proceeded to eliminate access to the RiteAid at the bottom of your street.
Magnificent Rite Aid, with row upon row of beverage-filled coolers. Sweet, unjudgmental Rite Aid, once grand refuge to the panicked gift wrapper, last-minute hostess, unwashed feeble.
Like Gollum’s Bagginses, like Jerry Seinfeld’s Newman, you murmur: PennDot.
Thunder rolls. Lightning flashes. And your own scary reflection sends you scurrying back to your pillow cave.
3. Bargaining
It’s been 60 hours.
You promise the devil your soul for a single can of ginger ale.
You get on your knees and promise God you’ll join a convent, help the lepers, and buy organic if he just turns the water on your nightstand into ginger ale.
Or 7up?
Or RC cola?
Shasta?
4. Depression
It’s four in the morning. Or maybe afternoon.
You have been in bed through 13 Charlie Chan movies, 6 Bulldog Drummonds, 2 Disney movies, 2 Neil Simon’s, a Thin Man, and every episode of Nero Wolfe. You’ve watched The Princess Bride twice.
You say, “Farmboy, bring me a ginger ale.” Your cat blinks and looks away.
You are sad.
5. Acceptance
You awake with an almost audible “bink!” You are capable of . . . sitting . . . and standing. You could probably even manage a shower and a trip to the grocery store.
But instead, you wander to the kitchen. And you make iced tea.
Entry filed under: Humor - Commentary. Tags: five stages, funny, ginger ale, sick.
1.
WritingbyEar | April 21, 2015 at 8:03 am
Oh, I totally feel this. I keep emergency ginger ale on hand for just this reason! Hope the worst of it is behind you!
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