Surviving illness
For a couple of days, my body temperature has been around 40-41 degrees C. Initially, I wanted to let my body heal itself, but then I decided to take medication to reduce the temperature to be able to write my autoethnographic notes and do very basic things such as making tea.
This illness has been a terrifying (but also humbling) experience so far. Growing up, I learned that the body temperature around 43-44 degrees C can cause serious damage to one's internal organs and even death. Mine never rose that high, but I felt that my state of consciousness was somewhat altered. I heard voices and sounds that were not around me. On the bodily level, I had periods of heart palpitations. I was very aware of my body, my blood running through my veins, mucus gathering in my airways. It was almost painful to touch anything. I was not afraid of death. Once, when I was young, I was already rather close to it. But I was afraid of possible damage to my organs.
I was dreaming of simple things. Of a glass of water and a towel soaked in cold water. I didn't feel well enough to get up and get those things. I thought I would faint if I tried. Eventually I felt well enough to open the window in the apartment so the apartment could become cold. Something that I usually take for granted felt like an achievement. At times, I was falling asleep. I couldn't sleep for more than half an hour at a time. It felt as if my mind was trying to keep me awake so I could help myself if things got worse.
Many thoughts were running through my mind. I was thinking about döstädning (Swedish for "death cleaning"). It's an idea that persons approaching the end of their journey in this world can downsize their possessions to avoid putting the responsibility of dealing with these possessions upon those who are left behind. I like this idea a lot. I remember when my stepfather's aunt died. It took many weeks, if not months, to deal with all the stuff. I downsized my possessions many years ago. If I die, there will be less than 50 items left. As I was in bed trying to heal, I lifted my head and looked around at the objects I live with. There is a cotton tote bag full of items (underwear, socks, a towel). There are my clothes hanging above it. There are 10 clothing items. There are a few personal care items (soap, toothbrush). I think it would be very easy for fellow humans to deal with these items. Perhaps the practice of downsizing to what is lagom should be called life cleaning rather than death cleaning. It's a life-affirming, spiritual practice, in my view. A practice of liberation from stuff.
I was thinking about being in the world with others. These are very existentialist thoughts. I was thinking that despite the fact we are deeply interrelated with fellow humans, we are essentially alone. Whenever I go through an illness, I often realise that.
I was thinking about my life. I did not give consent to be born. It is interesting that someone's decision imposes a huge responsibility of life and living a life upon a person. Yet, I am grateful for it. I am happy that I've seen the sun, the stars, trees, rivers, mountains, northern lights. I've felt oneness with nature.