I’ve got one. A cold. It feels like all the snow that melted outside today relocated to my brain. I’m a damn faucet, oozing unspeakables, while simultaneously being stopped up like a broken toilet. How is that even possible?
I’m a country girl now which means I don’t get many colds. The last one I had was in November 2015. It came on after we shared a shot glass around a Halloween party where half of the attendees were in the medical profession and the other half were farmers. Us farmers blamed the doctors and nurses because we never get sick. They blamed us because they get sick all the time. But never that sick. Eventually we made peace and jointly blamed that damned applejack moonshine concoction for not having sufficient alcohol to kill the germs.
The time before that was in May 2014. I made my annual pilgrimage to Southern California to see my sweet, wonderful niece, Legacie, graduate. I always get sick when I fly into LAX. This has been true on every annual trip I made since I left Southern California 19 years ago. But that particular virus ripped through my family like a hurricane and we were all varying degrees of unhealthy for two months afterwards.
After that last episode, I finally realized California was sending me a message. She had bestowed a kind of Montezuma’s revenge on me in the form of poor lung health, like so many So Cal residents who grew up with severe allergies which then became enduring asthma with age. And each time I returned, she, that great state of sunshine and strip malls, exploited my weakness to the fullest. That last trip, she finally broke me. I haven’t been back since.
This cold undoubtedly traveled back with Matt from his recent trip to the greater Washington DC area. With a half foot of snow on our horizon, he wrapped up his meetings and hit the highway so he could be snowed in with me here instead of stranded on a work trip. He managed to squelch his throat fire, that first inkling of a cold to come, with a heavy dose of vitamin C. But even the two C’s – Cider, as in apple cider vinegar, and Vitamin C couldn’t save me.
So here I am. Head clogged, snot nosed, and about to extol the virtues of a cold. Yes, really.
Whenever sucky things happened in my life, my dad always told me that without the bad, you can’t appreciate the good. Life is a study in contrasts. You can’t experience abundance without scarcity, happiness without sadness, life without death. I would add to this that you can’t appreciate good health without the occasional cold. And surviving a cold really does make you stronger, by giving your immune system more ammunition to ward of the next attack. Truth be told, its also nice to have a reason to take a midday nap with your cats.
I am just hoping this one doesn’t turn into the two month bender from 2014… Cross your fingers for me that this is just a three-day sabbatical from good health to make me more appreciative for what I have. And I’ll cross my fingers for you that you aren’t in need of a lesson on the virtues of a cold!