Rhinovirus: I'm Coming For You

  


Asides from wearing a coat too thin to be suitable for the weather conditions you are currently in, waiting for ice cream to soften enough to eat and the alarm clock going off, battling a cold is the worst thing ever.

Don’t call me dramatic. I mean in the spectrum of this-really-isn’t-so-bad-there-is-worse-things-than-this-you-entitled-douchecake, a cold is up there. However, with regards to the real life problems people have it’s pretty miniscule.

Just let me be a westernized bum-nugget.

The reason I bring this particular topic of conversation up today is because I have been dealing with a cold for the last few days. Expect, it’s not a proper cold. A proper cold consists of a weird mix of symptoms that text-book-style arrive like that unwanted family member at Christmas who leaves a whole wake of hatred and resentment in the days after their visit. So,like your drunkard of a great uncle Malcolm arrives at christmas, eats cornflakes for breakfast with whisky, lives off of beans (as the flatulence shows) and wakes everybody up in the night with a garden fork due to night terrors, a cold follows a similar pattern each time. You get a lull of sleepy days, then a scratchy throat followed by a few sleepless nights before actual snotagra falls is leaving your nose faster than the national speed limit. You get me? The same, monotonous two weeks of misery, sleepless nights and regretting taking your sense of smell for granted.

Except no siree. Not me sis. I have that weird cold. A minor sore throat at the start (for about a day). One aggravating sleepless night where you actually pray for the demonic cries of the dawn chorus, the hazy daylight poking through your non-lined curtains and the urge to pee half of the pacific ocean. That weird cold that just consists - almost entirely - of a runny, sniffly nose. Watery mucus that descends your nasal passages the whole day, meaning you sniff every three seconds and sound like a broken, walking metronome. The only respite you get from the watery nose-fall is the odd occasion where one nostril seizes up almost completely (like rush hour traffic) and leaves you sounding like a lawn mower and jet engine had a baby. And this just goes on and on.

And of course, the side effects of this cascade of water leaving your face nose is that you are left with twenty unfulfilled sneezes every hour, dehydration and the self-image of a lowly, hunchbacked Igor.

But I think the most frustrating thing about it is that you sound like you have a cold, your voice is nasal and your nose and eyes are runny (basically you’re involuntarily losing fluids through most of your orifices) - but you don’t feel that ill. It’s like the mind of a (rather jaded) toddler stuck in an old creature’s body. Mentally dude, I’m all there (mostly, but that's normal). I have lots of ideas and things I want - and need - to get done. But I have neither the patience or the energy. Cause apart from that sniffly nose, you feel ok until you start to do something more strenuous than changes from 1st to 2nd gear in a slightly obstinate 15 year old micra.

But what about the other stuff (I promise I’m nearly done with this trainwreck rant). For some reason, like I mentioned, I feel mega dehydrated - my hands, my lips, my skin all feel dry enough to be boiled for 10-12 minutes until al-dente. Like, so dehydrated and shrivelled up I feel actual and genuine rage. What’s more is my total intolerance to cold temperatures. Hunty, don’t be coming near me when I have wet hair from a shower and am cold. That rage could melt...like...that ice cream I mentioned at the start.

Look honestly I don’t even know where I was going with the post.

Make somebody happy today

More later,

Jess






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