Another Cold While Getting Older

You haven't heard from me for a bit. There's a reason.

I must say I remember worse colds. For me, anyway. Little of the gag-worthy accumulations I recall waking up to for a week of mornings in previous years. Coughing that produces nothing but a reduction in the urge to keep coughing - I guess that's beneficial, right? Drippy nose but not enough to overcome a pocketful of tissues, that might be better also, unless I'm just not remembering right. After all, there was that time earlier this week when I blew my nose and suddenly could smell again. I'd forgotten that part of a cold.

This time however, another effect has shown up that has become all too familiar: shortness of breath and exhaustion during brief bouts of activity. Yesterday I had my 4-hour stint in the club on Thursday mornings. Each officer "gets" a day to babysit the club, answer questions, help out when a volunteer is missing. My morning involved making a pot of coffee, turning on lights, plugging in things needing it, and a brief walk-though to check on how the closing crew from Wednesday had done what they were supposed.

A list was put on the office table. Some cleaning was missed and a water level needed on a grinder had dropped too far. Oh, and the coffee filter still held soggy used grounds.  Nothing major, no big exertions. But there was some pausing between tasks.

Since the person assigned for the morning to handle the jewelry store hadn't shown nor called, I got to handle that. We had three sales involving about a total of 20 minutes standing, unlocking and relocking cases, and ringing up the sales. It's been worse on several occasions, getting a series of customers who had to examining items in multiple cases, each taking twenty minutes or more of keeping me running around and trying both to serve everyone and keep security and paperwork straight. And have I ever mentioned the fun of fighting with a ring of over a dozed color coded keys when two could be considered green and five make you choose between identifying them as red, pink, or purple? Somebody helpfully wrote "pink" on one red key but handling has mostly erased those letters. Turns out the key for the lock requiring the red one is actually one of the black keys. It had a red rubber ring around it last year but that disintegrated.

Yes, I know, not so bad over all, but while recovering from whatever health issues, discouragingly difficult to sustain. This cold, on top of dealing with blood thinner overdosing early last month, have kept me out of the walking pool for several weeks now, and I'm feeling it. I'm not so sick as to feel sick, but there's little extra reserves built up. So while my day was a couple hours just sitting and working with wires or socializing, the scattered bits of activity left me sweating and puffing. I'd hoped I was beyond that.

But hey, if that's all this cold causes, I'm happy enough. I'm still coping. Last night I (grudgingly) spent a couple hours in the kitchen making chicken soup. There were all these things in the fridge demanding immediate use, finally, or disposal. (There are four more bags in the garbage this morning, just saying.) But the soup is tasty enough - and I think the taste buds are back to about half functional so I can tell. And the soup was just as good for breakfast today.

This cold got shared by Steve, who was several days ahead of me getting it. He's also in way worse shape. Wednesday I drove him to both his primary doc and an imaging clinic, to see if he really has cracked a rib from coughing. The stupid part is we won't get results until next Friday when he goes back to his primary. His doc said he had good breath sounds in the upper third of his lungs.

Only.

The doc also told Steve he liked the new term Steve came up with for what ails him: pneucolflu. Said it suits most of his patients lately.

We've both had our flu shots and pneumonia shots, so we're not too paranoid about either of those things. But with this cold, whenever Steve coughs or sneezes, it is immediately followed by, " OW! OW! F... F... F... OW!!" That is not his usual. And of course, when nothing is happening, he will poke and prod a bit to see if it hurts from pushing on the outside. (OK, I would too.)

And it does. Thankfully the last couple days I'm hearing more "OWs" and fewer "F...s."

On the plus side, his appetite has decreased, and his doc says he's lost a bit of weight. And he's passed the point of needing to be horizontal practically all day. In fact, I got up this morning to find nearly all of the major kitchen mess I made last night cleaned up and dishes put away. A few dishes are left, but it's a big improvement from 3 counters and a stove top. I hope that means we're both beginning to recover.

I'll be much more confident once Steve returns to his cards clubs. Or to Ninos for their Thursday special.