I need to go to work because conferences are this week and grades closed, so everything has to be perfectly synchronized. I avoid going to the lunchroom with my colleagues lest I spread around this plague, and I spend the time that I'm teaching wavering between hot tea and menthol throat lozenges. By the end of the day, my throat feels like sandpaper and thumbtacks.
On the ride home, I discover that breathing, talking, and singing intensify the pain. I do, however, discover that humming with my mouth tightly closed seems to relieve the pain somewhat. The vibrations of my vocal chords soothe the rotten irritation, and the lower octave I can hum, the better my throat feels. This is good because whenever I have a cold, I can sing tenor, so I am humming in the Pavarotti range.
After arriving home, my nose starts leaking like a faucet. It's almost like I cannot even feel or control it; one second I am breathing just fine, and the next I have Niagara Falls billowing out of one nostril ... then the other ... then back to the first side ... and then the other ... I'm desperate to go to bed and get some sleep, but Drunk History's new season starts at 10 p.m., and there's no way being sick is going to make me miss it. That's just bullshit.Around 11 p.m. I head to bed and I sleep just fine, which, for me with a cold, is a miracle. However, when I wake up, my eyes are on fire. They're hot and they sting and they're leaking. No, it's not conjunctivitis; it's just my sinuses rebelling against me. I drag my sorry ass to work because conferences start tonight. I isolate myself, drink lots of tea, but notice how much better my throat feels today than yesterday.
Of course, drinking liquids, especially bubbly liquids or liquids high in vitamin C, will be good for me. I stop at the store on the way home and grab some orange juice and some ginger ale. When I get home, I am surprised and thrilled to see one small bottle of prosecco left in the fridge. Well, now, I know the fabulous healing qualities of OJ, and I also know that prosecco is bubbly and clear, therefore it must be good for sick people. I mean, I guess I can consider it carbonated bouillon, right?
Needless to say I am now under the "Mimosa Medication" regimen. I am not sure if it's helping or not or if I feel any better, but I can definitely say that I simply don't give a flying shit. So, nasty cold and sore throat, if you intend to stick around for any length of time, I reckon we had both get used to the lovely bubbly mixture of vitamin C and vitamin P(rosecco) because that's how I intend to drive this cold away.
I'll take one for the sickly team! Wish me luck! I'm down to my last few straws.
