The title is not misleading, there is a great joy in being sick. A little background, yesterday I worked all day but the whole time just did not feel good, and could not put my finger on it. I had planned on doing a 10 mile run when I got off but when I left work I figured I'd go home for a bit and rest and that would refresh me. Once I got home all I wanted to do was lay down, and then felt that uneasy stomach feeling where you feel compelled to make a trip to the bathroom. After vomiting everything I'd eaten for the last month it felt like, I keeled over on the couch until Carrie got home. A couple hours later I got hit with a fever that peaked at around 102, and stayed there for a few hours. During the night it broke, and today I feel much better, though still not really feeling up to doing much more than walking from one end of the room to the other.
So where is the joy in that? It was during this time of being sick, pitiful, and helpless that I was able to see in my wife a compassion and love that gave no consideration to her own desires but instead focused her attention on me to give me comfort and aid in healing. Everything from constantly refilling my Sprite and Gatorade cup to soup bowl runs to getting out at 8:30 at night to go get Tylenol because we did not have any, to getting up at 3 to give me some medicine so I could continue sleeping through the night.
During the entire time I was laid up on the couch, there was a huge joy running through my heart knowing that in the chair next to me was someone who loves me more than I do myself. She served me in a way that struck the deepest parts of me. In this, there is joy in being sick, because during that time everything wrong with my body was countered with everything right in my life. I love you Carrie!