My eyes are burning, I might even start to cry. The computer screen is too bright … no brighter than it’s ever been, I’m sure, but it sure seems too bright now. Gotta find that little wheel that fixes the contrast. There, that’s better.
Zen versus the Common Cold
I have a little tickle in my throat. It flits around in there, like a moth, just out of reach of my tongue and a little lower than the back of my mouth. I breathe slowly, rhythmically, hoping not to disturb my moth. I think of Zen and what little I know about meditation. The door slowly swings in when I inhale, and swings out as I exhale. I can picture it, all right, but my nasal passages are draining and if I don’t cough pretty soon I’ll drown.
Maybe I’ll cough just a little, a little girly cough, just enough to move the crud in my throat up and out. Who am I trying to kid? One cough is never sufficient. We always cough at least twice, bang-bang, then hold our breath for a second to see if it worked.
The first cough just annoys the moth and makes it flutter more furiously. The second cough sometimes works. About every third or fourth time we cough, we succumb to a grand mall seizure of coughing.
K*sa;lef!2 Ouch! Excuse me, I’m back. I just coughed. Long and loud, vainly trying to hurl the moth through the swinging doors and across the room. Coughing kind of feels good at first, like sneezing, come to think of it. By the time I stop, though, my ribs hurt and so does my stomach. My back aches–it often does because I don’t exercise enough, but now it aches more. Even my aches have aches.
When will the headache come? You can usually count on getting a headache in the depths of a cold, and I can’t write when I have a headache. So far so good.
Diane also has come down with this cold. If you think I have it bad, you ought to see her! I think it’s because she’s so skinny that a cold really knocks her down and out. Her whole body shakes after she’s through coughing. It’s enough to break your heart.
Actually, I caught this cold from Diane, who came down with symptoms two days ago, a day before I did. We think she caught it from Nikki in the office, who’s been coughing pretty hard for quite a while, or more likely from one of her brother’s kids who always seem to be dripping and sniffling. What part of “cover your mouth when you cough” don’t kids understand? Is it a genetic thing? How could this have helped our species survive?
Who Can I Sue for This?
Attorney General Janet Reno’s theory of liability, as I understand it, allows me to sue whoever gave me this virus. Hey, look at me! I’m a victim! Somebody get me a lawyer!
I’ll sue for the amount that someone would have to pay me to voluntarily endure this misery. Right now, $5,000 sounds about right. Or maybe The Heartland Institute should sue for the amount of money I might have raised during this prime fundraising season. I’m sure I would have made more phone calls and raised more money if only I didn’t have this awful cold. [Note to self: use this at next board meeting.]
I suppose we’ll have to hold Diane’s brother responsible for whatever award we’ll seek, since the only currency the kids have consists of Pokémon cards. (Hey, whatever happened to Beanie Babies?) Good thing modern jurisprudence is also moving in the direction of holding parents responsible for the misdeeds of their kids.
Excuse me for a second, I have to get this sweater off. Why has it gotten so hot in here all of a sudden? I was freezing just a few minutes ago. I see Diane still has the blanket wrapped all around her … probably too weak to notice how warm it is in here.
Beer to the Rescue (Again)
Anyway, about the lawsuit … . Well, never mind. It seemed a lot funnier when I first thought it up a couple minutes ago. Oops, I’m out of beer. Beer helps suppress coughing and calms an upset stomach, so I recommend consuming copious quantities whenever you are sick.
Now, some reader out there is probably thinking, “Shame on him! Alcohol interferes with the body’s natural ability to heal itself.”
Oh really. So who taught you that? Ol’ Doc Koop? Or was it that world-renowned expert on public health, your mom? It sounds awfully clichéd to me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the “body’s natural ability to heal itself” isn’t just more propaganda from the nanny state to further demonize alcohol and tobacco. I guess it’s just a coincidence that alcohol and tobacco work quicker and faster and cost less than their politically correct pharmaceutically approved substitutes. Hah! The very language is in a conspiracy against us!
Beer has bubbles in it, and so does Alka Seltzer, so maybe that’s why beer is good for the control of cold and flu symptoms. Maybe Miller should advertise its products as cold remedies, the way my box of Cheerios says it can help prevent heart disease. If anyone from Miller (or some lesser brewer) is reading this, this is my idea and you can’t use it without a royalty agreement, and we’re talking seven figures, my friend.
Sickness Is Weakness!
Geez, a cold breeze just shot through the room! It’s freezing in here. (So close the refrigerator door and get back to work, you big dufus.) Got to put the sweater back on … brrrr … got to move slowly and carefully, though, so I don’t accidentally throw out my back. Last time I did that was while I was putting on a tie, can you believe that? I could hardly walk for a week.
A friend of mine, Bob, says I can beat this cold thing if I just say seven times, out loud and with conviction, “Sickness is weakness! Sickness is weakness!” He told me that Adolf Hitler once said this to an assembly of “the youth of Germany,” though I’m sure Bob doesn’t think this little historical tidbit makes it any more credible. Bob smokes a little pot and makes the most amazing connections between things that seem entirely separate.
So I’m kind of torn between shouting “sickness is weakness” and just feeling sorry for myself and drinking more beer. Well, “torn” might be too strong a word for it. I’m too weak, or maybe too drunk, to shout anything. I’d better not have another beer tonight.
Sleep, Oh Blessed Sleep
I see Diane has fallen asleep on the couch under her blanket. Gosh she looks so small, so frail. (Excellent choice of words, Joe. “Frail” conveys weakness, lightness of frame, vulnerability to injury or harm. You’re still doing pretty good, but don’t over-do the beer jokes.)
It would be neat if I could carry Diane to the bedroom without awaking her. Skinny as she is, there was a time I could do it. My back is really sore, though, and getting more sore the more I think about carrying her to the bedroom.
Hey, my nose has stopped dripping! But now I can hardly breathe. Better take another Actifed. It’s hot as blazes in here, too. I haven’t coughed in quite awhile, it seems, but the mere mention of it brings back the old tickle.
Well, this essay is probably long enough … and right on schedule, a headache is starting to peek around the edges of my sore eyes. I’ve got to practice my breathing: inhale (the door swings in), exhale (the door swings out). I can almost sense my Buddha nature.
Ack! Bang-bang. Kvsho# Ouch!
