The last time I missed this many days of work was when I had just given birth! The worst part of it for me was no matter how longingly I looked at my laptop, I just couldn't bring myself to write, much less sit up! I missed a week's worth of writing time.
i realize I wasn't even holding down solid food so this might sound ridiculous, but in hindsight all I remember is all those precious hours I had at home NOT WORKING when I could have been writing. I have conveniently forgotten the fact that I was very occupied being so sick I wanted to die, thank you very much. That's how much writing means to me. I guess I must be a true writer after all.
Reminds me a little of how I used to feel after I was sick when I was a smoker. I knew I was feeling better when I was wanting a cigarette again. I don't smoke anymore, haven't for more than ten years now, but the craving is the same. I knew I felt better when the urge to feel the keyboard under my fingers grew stronger and harder to ignore. Funny. Now writing is my habit of choice, my drug. Now words are my fix.
Ha ha. I'm a literary junkie. I quite like that.