5° F.
7 inches of snow on the ground.
NYC Schools closed.
Snow Day People!
Image Credit
Tag: cold
Here comes the sun
Day 1: Tickle in back of throat. Sudden bout of sneezing.
Day 2: 2 am. Difficulty swallowing. Throat burning.
Day 3: Fatigue. Fog. Tough guy regrets not taking a flu shot. (again)
Day 4: Man Down. Working from home. DayQuil to NyQuil to DayQuil loop. Delirious.
Day 5: Winded walking up the stairs. Read same page 3 times. Heavy eyelids.
Day 6: Thick nasal discharge. Can’t taste or smell food. Chocolate still Ok though.
Day 7: Patient care provider: When will you take a shower and get out of the house?
Day 8: Is that a break? Have the clouds moved? Has the sun muscled through and ignited the hills?
“You’ll be driving along depressed when suddenly a cloud will move and the sun will muscle through and ignite the hills. It may not last. Probably won’t last. But for a moment the whole world comes to. Wakes up. Proves it lives. It lives—red, yellow, orange, brown, russet, ocher, vermillion, gold. Flame and rust. Flame and rust, the permutations of burning. You’re on fire. Your eyes are on fire. It won’t last, you don’t want it to last. You can’t stand any more. But you don’t want it to stop. It’s what you’ve come for. It’s what you’ll come back for. It won’t stay with you. but you’ll remember that it felt like nothing else you’ve felt or something you’ve felt that also didn’t last.”
— Lloyd Schwartz
Credits: Image Source: Winter Sun by Onodriim. Poem Source: apoetreflects
21° F. Time for…
Repeat after me: “Mélomanie”
Man Down
It was born on Thursday morning. Source, unknown. Lousy night’s sleep. Scratchy throat. Teasing cough. Oh, oh.
By lunch, phlegm was sliding down the nasal passages.
By mid-afternoon, slow ripples…no waves, waves of low level, throbbing migraines.
I skip over major projects. Start pushing off meetings that can be deferred. Manage to creep through the afternoon aimlessly picking at project-lites.
Leave at 5:30. Head home. To rest.
“Starve a cold. Feed a fever.” (Why then, am I sitting at the table eating like a wolf?)
Vicks NyQuil Cold & Flu. I roll the shimmering green gel tablets in my palm – calm settles, I pause, and I swallow. (The Nightime, Sniffling, Sneezing, Coughing, Aching, Stuffyhead, Fever, So-You-Can-Rest Medicine. Yes, as advertised. This sh*t works.) Magic. 30 minutes later, I’m gone. Dream land.
Friday morning. Eyes open. Wary. But feeling rested. Hey, I feel better.
I approach the decision tree. Stay home – contain contamination. Or, Soldier on. Decision? Off to work it is. Real men, work.
Steady downward spiral. Hour by hour deterioration. Popping Sudafed tablets. Phlegm no longer phlegm. Mucous. Vicious type. Sn*t. No longer a gentle slide. Running. Continue reading “Man Down”