I am miserable. Now I know, in the whole scheme of things, there
are people much worse off that I and that I could be in a much worse place as
well. In my here and now, however, I am miserable.
I have been fighting allergy issues ever
since ragweed started to bloom a week or two ago. Late Friday night, I added a
cold or a touch of the flu to the mix. Woke up Saturday still sneezy and itchy,
but with a sore throat. "Drainage," I told myself as I let loose with
a volley of sneezes, much like the rapid fire of an automatic weapon.
By mid-morning, however, I was back in bed, trying to get some
much-craved sleep. That lasted a couple of hours and was much appreciated. When
I got up, however, I felt as though a rhino snout was growing out of my face,
my trigger for knowing that I have a rhinovirus (common cold). A quick look in
the mirror, however, confirmed that my snout was my own and not that of a wild
beast.
Throughout the day, the snout issue intensified as my nasal
passages swelled to gigantic (so it seemed) proportions. My sore throat also
worsened. I sucked on single-stick popsicles (the traditional cherry, grape,
and orange ones). Those seemed to help a bit. I also was famished. Perhaps it
was a side effect. If one has a rhino snout, perhaps one also has a rhino
appetite!
In an attempt to flush all the nastiness out of my system, I drank
lots of water, which had its own humorous side effects, especially when
sneezing fits ensued. At one point, my 77-year-old mother asked me whether I
wanted to use some of her incontinence pads. I thought I heard a chuckle in her
voice when she asked, but surely that was not true. Mom wouldn’t mock me in my
time of misery.
Late Saturday evening, I added Airborne to my misery-fighting
arsenal. I’ve had good luck with it in the past. But the Airborne, anti-histamines,
and all the water I drank caught up with me and every hour to hour and a half,
I was up and in the bathroom. I also couldn’t seem to control my internal temp.
I waffled between hot and cold all night. I think I slept maybe forty-five
minutes to an hour between each journey down the hall, so I’m a little punchy
this morning.
All in all, though, I think the misery is starting to subside. My
snout does not feel as swollen and drainage is down to a trickle. My ETA for
feeling human again is about the time I go to work on Monday. Thank goodness I
had the weekend to fight this!
My friend, Cora, also is fighting a summer cold and wrote an ode
to her situation. It is with your inspiration, Cora, that penned this little
ditty:
Hot. Cold. Up. Down.
Rhino on my face.
Achy. Sneezy. Oops, I peed.
Bathroom is my place.
