The problem with chronic illness is that it's boring. I don't mean for the person stricken in bed and suffering. Who cares about them, right⸮ I am referring to everybody else who finds the subject duller than a twenty-four hour CSPAN marathon. When the chronically sick try to tell others about their struggles, they are likely to receive no small degree of exasperation from people who can't hide their dismay, as if to say "What? This again?"
Of course, not everybody is so callous, and even if they are, they aren't likely to be so open about it. They'll smile at you, nod their head sympathetically, tell you to call them if you ever need anything, then disconnect their phone number. I am almost certain this is what really happens, or at least, I am mostly certain since my observations were possibly affected by my 102°F fever. As I've written over and over before, I contracted COVID-19 in October like an early Halloween treat, received RSV for Thankgiving, then had a string of mystery respiratory viruses all the way into April. Despite blogging about this three and a half dozen times, nobody has sent me bales of cash with a sweet "Get Well" card yet. In fact, I would have simply been happy to have received a postcard from Healthy Town, USA with the words, "Wish you were here," scrawled on the back, but no such luck.
In March, I celebrated six months of respiratory viruses by bringing another one home with me from the virus distribution center. This was a proper bookend to COVID-19, complete with five days of a 101°F fever, and it left me bedridden with nothing to do except…what was that?
"Stop being so negative, dear."
"Don't identify as your illness, my dude."
"Keep your plague to yourself."
"You were sick?"
That last one was from one of my beloved daughters, so yes, I was sick. And I had a lot of time to think about things like ADHD, Depression, the fascinating patterns in my ceiling, and how I was going to eat. I can assure you that modern amenities don't accommodate the sick in bed. You can imagine my frustration when I discovered Door Dash would not, in fact, come to my bedroom door. Never mind that I'd have to mail them my front door key first, which I couldn't do from beneath my bedsheets.
If chronic illness is boring for others on the outside, just imagine how boring it is for us on the inside. Couple that boredom with ADHD, and I can get up to dangerous mischief without leaving my bed. During my tumultuous time of illness, when I survived by eating my pillow, I would pass the days propping my iPhone on one arm while I weakly flopped the other arm in its general direction, randomly stabbing at the screen as my hand passed by it. In this way, I surfed the net and kept myself entertained. I can inform you with great authority that being sick in bed with ADHD and an iPhone is a very, very bad situation. Especially when eBay is involved.
Somehow, in my feverish state—where I enjoyed reading badly written books because I was too sick to notice—I also took time to bid on several out of print Pokémon games. I do have an interest in that game series, I must confess, and that in itself wasn't the problem. Bidding on something in order to keep an eye on the auction instead of simply adding it to my watch list was the source of my trouble. I not only won both, very expensive auctions, but I discovered to my alarm that I already owned one of them.
I had forgotten the age-old adage passed down to me by blessed family members who had learned the hard way: "Never bid on auctions when you're sick!" Or perhaps it was my own adage learned at the School of Hard Slaps. I was too feeble-minded to recall.
I recovered long enough a week later to relist the items on eBay immediately after they arrived and before my bank account began to hemorrhage from my stupidity. Both items sold quickly, and when all fees had been totaled, I was out about five bucks between the two. Disaster averted.
I've been writing about coping strategies for adults with ADHD for seventeen years now. In that time I have shared my most blockheaded moments for your entertainment, though I have not shared them all. Some ADHD mistakes are colossal in their stupidity and should be kept secret, buried in a vault, and forgotten by time. Fortunately for you, my deft auctioneering was not one of those moments. Take note and learn, my friends, which moments are the worst for your ADHD.
Illness and ADHD are a terrible combo for me. There are many things I will not allow myself to do while sick, mostly because being bored out of my mind while suffering from reduced impulse control always gets me into trouble. Perhaps that might explain why I have an old LP of Artie Shaw arriving today even though I don't have access to a record player.
Coping Strategy: Never bid on auctions when you're sick or tired while experiencing a case of chronic ADHD.
