Illness and zero-waste practices
I'm writing these notes after taking some medication to reduce my body temperature that recently rose to 41.4 degrees C. Before taking the medication I was unable to do anything, let alone write autoethnographic notes. I could measure my temperature because my partner invited a body thermometer into our life a while ago. He has a child and wanted to be able to measure her body temperature accurately. I woke up with the body temperature of just over 39 degrees, and then it started to rise. I felt very ill, falling asleep randomly, hearing voices of persons who were not there. I felt dizzy. The soft, organic cotton sheets on my bed felt like sandpaper. I felt ache in every part of my body and a tingling sensation in my skin. I had an unbearable headache.
A while ago, every time I was ill, I was sad about it. I felt that illness prevents me from doing something important or useful. Something productive. These days, in some way, I appreciate illness. Like any other human being, I don't want to be ill, but illness brings my attention to my own embodiment, to what is truly important (heath, for example). At the times of illness that has severe impact on one's everyday life and activities, almost nothing else matters.
I was scared because I was on my own. It was difficult to walk a few metres to get some water, something I usually take for granted. It is interesting how one can feel alone in the city full of fellow humans. At first, I was going to let my body do its work of fighting infection via raising temperature. But when it reached 41.4, I decided to take medication.
During times such as this, I do not prioritise zero-waste practices. For example, the medication I took comes in plastic. I used tea bags because they are convenient.