What A Cold Feels Like

Stupid title, eh? Don't we all know what a cold feels like? For like the ten thousandth time already? 

Then again, I haven't actually had one in ages. Even before covid came along I'd quit being exposed to them. No toddlers around, those adorable little germ-wagons lovingly sharing everything they'd picked up in daycare, greeting you with wet kisses and sneezes every time they could. For years I'd lived in an extended time between generations, away from working where I'd interact with two dozen people a day or even more and at a time when nobody thought anything at all about going to work sick, because it was all just a cold, wasn't it? We got our flu shots, so it really was all just colds back then.

Once covid struck, hitting seniors the hardest, the world shut down. Masks got worn, mine still do mostly, special hours at stores were restricted to seniors, and we sheltered in place as much as possible. Shopping happened online whenever possible, and eating out was really drive through and taking home. Movies were whatever played on TV. In avoiding covid we also avoided the common cold.

We didn't miss them. Like a lot of things, if they're not present they do not exist. They need a reason to be noticed. It would almost be tempting to say they decided to find their way back to being noticed... with a vengeance. Our well refurbished immunity fell aside without exposure, and any returning cold had full rein in our bodies to do what it pleased.

Or at least that's how it feels. Maybe it's just that I'm this much older now and none of the above is true. Even though it is. But this latest cold is a humdinger. My nose is an unendingly dripping faucet. In two days I've gotten into my second box of tissues as well as my stash of fast food napkins in the car door pocket when I'm out and about. There's a hint of a sore throat, an occasional spike of about a degree of fever, a headache which wakes me up  from an otherwise sound sleep. My upper lip is so chapped it's split, and chapstick is barely helping. I started with four tubes of it laid in, left from last year, so at least I'm prepared. 

But since Steve got his cold first, I had to go out and buy 4 more boxes of tissues, and we're well into the second. Cough drops too. I buy those ahead, the sugarless kind because I can tuck one in my cheek as I go to bed for soothing and not worry about them rotting my teeth in the process. I returned south at summer's end with the two full bags I took north, ordered two more from a service Steve gets which provides him a budget each quarter for free pharmacy supplies, and still had to actually buy two more large bags yesterday. It's not that they stop the coughing. Any deep breath, or a normal conversation, will set it off. I presume because it needs to be done, clearing out the lungs of whatever is working to fill them up if one doesn't. Coughing is necessary. Mostly the cough drops just make it feel better I guess.

I'd forgotten the bit about those two or three days in a cold's life where you can't taste anything. Eating is done from habit. I might as well clear out the pantry of everything I hate the taste of now while I can't actually taste it. Of course I still pop that chocolate mint in my mouth or sprinkle extra garlic on something anyway. I even drank some of my very favorite diet root beer which I'd finally found on the store shelf after it disappeared back in September due to supply chain issues, then had to remind myself to use up the stuff Steve gave me because it was the wrong flavor for him too and now I won't even notice. It'll be just wet and fizzy either way. At least there's no temptation to stuff myself with holiday goodies at the moment.

All in all, aside from tonight's headache, possibly a side effect from the Nyquil I bought this morning and have been dosing myself with all day, and I almost never get headaches these days, all my symptoms are just inconvenient. The piles of soggy used tissues need dumping to make room for the next pile about every half hour, and I can't chat long with people I'd like to talk to, including Steve, Rich, and the dog. I have to remember to go to the bathroom more often than I think I need to because of the coughing. It's a very good reminder when I forget. And I try not to feel sorry for myself because I missed the club party last night. I don't know yet if my tree won one of the prizes or whose trees did. I emailed my very brief speech to a fellow officer (assorted thanks, that kind of thing)  to say in my stead, and didn't have to wrap the things I bought for the present exchange because they are still here. Somehow, I was smart enough to buy things I'd actually like to get for myself instead of coming home with something I have no use or desire for, so that's actually a win, I guess. Last year what I got was a string of Christmas lights with a battery to wear as a necklace. Seriously. So another win, staying home, right?

But I still won't know if one particular woman drank enough wine that, like last year, she got the courage to join a group of other women on the dance floor for some fun. (Why don't the men dance?) She had a particularly good time last year during "YMCA" with all the right arm moves, so much that it was repeated until they all ran out of steam. I had noticed that that song was on the request list in the club last week for songs from our hired DJ. I also won't know how much of a problem another member's husband may have been because of combined severe short term memory issues and his loud voice "compensating" for increasing deafness. It happens. Several members use the club to get temporary respite from caregiver duties. Most of them become widows after a few years or find a way to afford long term care. Or both. Few men lose wives the same way, but that happens as well of course. The annual party is often the only time we meet the spouses, though a few couples both join, and some members simply are single.

I do hope all had fun. I'm sure the potluck was fantastic, since it always is. Since I have a key I'll pop into the club during a time when nobody is there to bring home my tree without sharing my cold, and see what's what there. With luck and good self care I should be back in a week and find out how it all went.