Well it's hardly original of me I grant,
but I have a Cold.
Or it's had me, for about a week now.
The days and nights are merging in a mess of screwed up tissues,
Miss Marple DVDs,
turmeric drinks because the internet says it's anti-inflammatory,
honey and lemon because that used to be good enough,
and the annoying thing is,
it's looking so bright and inviting out there.
I ought to be out in it.
I ought to be doing so many things.
There are birthdays to attend to.
And spring cleaning.
And grand-daughter to play with.
But I have a Cold.
And no one else must get it.
I'll come back to that important point.
My mother never got colds
and I tell myself I have inherited that handy gene
because it really is quite a rare occurrence.
I saw this one eyeing me up a few times
but laughed it off.
Look who's laughing now.
Yesterday I thought I had turned a corner.
The violent sneezing stopped and the diaphragm stopped hurting.
(A cracked rib surely?)
I even spent most of the night asleep instead of wandering around at 2.40 am
(a time nobody should see twice a day)
thinking the house seemed a little surprised
to be hosting me out of hours.
But no. The Cold had a new plan.
Travel down boys. Check out the bronchi.
See what mischief we can do there.
So now the coughing has started in earnest.
The forty a day sort of cough,
which coupled with the turmeric stained fingers is all too realistic.
Dr Google has been consulted again.
Plenty of fluids,
create a moist atmosphere - yes got the message,
Advil (why do I always end up at Mayo clinic?),
it's a virus so don't even think of asking for antibiotics,
if you've got a fever and chills and you're over 65 and pregnant
and you've been ill for much longer than one week you wuss,
maybe then consult your physician. I mean GP.
But they've all got it too.
So stop feeling sorry for yourself.
It's only a Cold.
Nobody wants to hear about it.
And crucially, just before you're completely recovered
and you will be, give or take three weeks,
and even though wraith-like in appearance,
one of your nearest and dearest will get it
and not only will they cast a baleful eye in your direction,
despite all your hand washing,
but they will need nursing.
And the sick bay, so recently vacated
will be occupied again.