I'm not good at being sick, so I try not to do it very often. The last time I was sick was last summer, when I had persistant nausea for several weeks. I know what you're thinking, and you're right! My doctor ordered an ultrasound, and there on the screen we could see them, five wee ones, all nestled together in their warm home. Yep, I was carrying quintuplet gallstones. I got those suckers yanked out and have felt great ever since. Well, until this week.
But this is just a bad cold. The thing with gallstones or appendicitis or a broken leg is that those are real illnesses, as in you get to have people bring you food and give you sympathetic looks and you can use the motorized wheelchairs at StuffMart. But with a cold, you get nothin', nada, zilch, except maybe a cough drop handed to you by the nice lady sitting behind you in church. So you have all the suffering without any of the perks. Which stinks. If I were in charge of the universe, a head cold would automatically net you a free 5 pound box of Belgian dark chocolate, round trip tickets for two to Hawaii, and one of Apolo Anton Ohno's bandanas.
To make matters worse, when I get a cold, I turn into someone else. I become this cantakerous, 84 year old woman with emphysema, a bad hip, and a yappy little dog named Sheldon. I mumble to myself and answer my children with grunts. After a good coughing fit, I finish it off with this rumbling "unnnnggghhhh" sound. Sometimes I even say, "Oy." I shuffle around the house, growling, "Where's my box of Kleenex?" It's incredibly annoying, even to me. If I had to deal with me, I'd shut me in the bedroom for a week or until the Benedryl ran out, whichever came last.
Well, it's time for me to put my stuffy head to bed. But if this cold lasts much longer, I'm going to have to get a new wardrobe. I definitely will need a housecoat, some knee-high hosiery (to roll down to my ankles), and some of these slippers that I saw on Junosmom's blog.