Colds are the worst.
Did you ever notice that when you’re sick, you have trouble conceiving of a world where you WON’T be sick? Like when you’re doubled over a toilet bowl blasting puke, you are pretty sure that you will be there forever, and you will wake up tomorrow and still be sick and you’ll just have to figure out how to live your life throwing up all the time.
Colds do something way crueler. Either through some evolutionary flaw, cultural idiocy, or just a desire to not show weakness, we somehow think that colds aren’t bad enough to put your life on hold. So we go to work or school, suffer with the cold for weeks, and give it to everyone we know. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we get “a cold going around.” Here’s a hint: it’s not the cold doing the heavy lifting.
Yesterday afternoon, while the boys were napping, I felt a little tickle at the back of my throat, like a popcorn hull that I couldn’t hack out. By the time some friends arrived to play Dune (Atriedes won in turn 7!) I was clearly in the throes of some kind of malady. I spent the whole game blowing my nose and pumping hand sanitizer. I tried to be careful about touching stuff so as not to get everyone else sick, so hopefully that worked.
Upon waking up, it was obvious that church probably wasn’t in the cards. So I was a heathen and let my wife and kids go without me. I don’t miss church for much, but I am sure I would have made at least six more people sick if I had gone. Instead I stayed on the couch and watched TV, which used to sound awesome until I turned like 30. Now it just feels like an enormous waste of time.
I do feel much better now, thanks for asking. I’m still pretty stopped up and I still come close to a coughing fit whenever I laugh. But it’s a good sight better than I was last night, so I don’t think I’ll need to blow my time-off on missing work.
So that’s how I spent my Sunday. One last strange phenomenon to report. I experienced this while changing The Little One. Now he generally hates to have his diaper changed, because he wants to sit in his own urine I guess. But as he squawked there on the changing table, I heard the fluid behind my ears giving a faint rumble. How can you explain that, with your precious science?
Very easily I’m sure.