From under the covers I emerge
Beware of the fall cold. Whatever it takes to avoid it—incessant hand-washing, refusing to shake others’ hands, never leaving your house—do it.
I started feeling a little achy and tired on Wednesday last week. No big deal, I figured. Then Thursday I had a fever and my head felt like it was in a vice and my throat felt insanely swollen. Started drinking Thera-flu (my cold remedy of choice, but only the lemon flavor).
I actually went to urgent care on Saturday morning because I saw white patches on my tonsils and freaked out. I thought for sure it was the dreaded strep throat. And I was nervous that I’d give it to Morrow, since we’re kind of hanging out in close quarters on a regular, three-hour basis.
But the strep test was negative—thank God!
Basically I just had one heck of a cold. It’s still hanging on, sadly. And it also passed itself onto my immuno-rockstar husband, which was a huge shock. When you have a husband who never gets sick, you know it’s bad when 1. he actually admits that he’s sick and 2. he takes a sick day.
I think this is the worst sickness I can remember since sophomore year of college, when I got adult croup. I’ll never forget my dear friend Niccole applying ice-cold compresses to my body all through the night while I hallucinated with fever. That’s a serious friend.
I’m finally emerging and feeling a little better each day. But take my advice here, friends. Arm thyself with hand sanitizer and apply it liberally to you and yours.
Entry filed under: Life.