I was pretty fragile for about 6 months. I had people hovering over me. I had trained medical folks coming into my home to care for me. I had multiple surgeries. It was scary. And, at the same time, it was easy to give up my care to nurses and the Phenom. After my first surgery, I didn't want to get out of bed, ever. I hurt. I had tubes and wires attached to me. I had devices taking care of my in takes and my outflows. Even when they made me get up, I couldn't wait to get back into bed. When they finally released me, I didn't really feel ready to go home. In fact, the next morning, I could only cry because it was too overwhelming.
With subsequent hospitalizations, surgeries, it was equally easy to give up care to the nurses. Truth be told, I liked being taken care of, even by strangers. The Phenom did an equally good job of making sure I wanted for nothing. It was so easy.
When it came time to return to work, I was happy to not have the inconvenient items of the illness but I also didn't know if I were quite ready to jump right in. (And, given the last hospitalization when I split open one of my scars, clearly I should have gone slower.)
Right now, I have a bit of an infection. Nothing bad. Nothing that keeps me from normal functioning (except the gym . . . I don't want sick people using the gym equipment I use, and so I show the same respect to them.) But, at the same time, a little voice in the back of my head tells me that perhaps I should feign being sicker than I am so I can be taken care of again.
I'm pretty sure this is how Munchausen's Syndrome starts. Although, to reference Bill Murray in What About Bob? . . . if you can fake it, you don't have it. Darn.