If you have ever watched the History Channel or stayed awake long enough in History class you have heard about the worst plagues ever to be recorded.
The Black Death 1340 – 1771
Smallpox 430 BC ‘ish- 1979
Influenza Pandemic / Spanish Flu 1918-1919
The Common Cold Summer Edition 2016
That’s right. I just put a summer cold in with the worst things ever to happen to humans.
Am I stretching? Maybe.
Am I being a little insensitive? Probably.
It could be the cold meds or it could be that I don’t really care about being politically correct among friends. We are friends after all aren’t we?
It feels a lot like something terrible is happening here, my throat is on fire and my nose is producing an awful lot of mucus.
I have tissues stuck in my nostrils and I feel like I may need another box of Kleenex soon.
I can’t seem to swallow and my head feels like it is in a vice.
I have a sneaky little cough that creeps up only when I need to talk.
Which is what I do. I talk. All the time.
Right now when I speak it sounds like a small animals plea for help.Kinda squeaking, sorta whispered and definitely muffled.
It feels like giving a speech under water.
Distorted face and all.
Just blubbering and desperate attempts at cohesive words. A comical attempt to breathe and speak without the aid of my nose.
All this open mouth gasping makes delivering oxygen to the lungs I have not yet coughed up very, very difficult.
Then there are the coworkers who don’t dare to cross my doorway. Like there is an unseen germ barrier they are safe from. If they hover just a couple of inches from the safety of the hallway they might not need to be decontaminated.
This can both good and bad.
Sure there are some co-workers I don’t really mind to not see for days but we do have to accomplish things here in the office. Put on your hospital mask and let’s get this meeting over with. We have flow charts and spreadsheets to look at. Let me just wipe off that drool.
I think I may actually have heard the sound of an aerosol can behind me when I left the common room.
The faint smell of Lysol wafting behind me.
The good news is I am almost oblivious to the uncharacteristic avoidance of my work team as I am the general disgust on friends faces as I shove another tissue into my nostril.
My trashcan is overflowing with snotty little ghosts and the bags under my eyes make me look like a zombie.
Sounding more and more like a frightening history lesson in human suffering isn’t it?
I am barely awake having taken so much OTC cold remedy and barely getting any sleep.
Sleep is such a generous word.
I really mean something more like trying to rest in an upright position while ranging from ice-cold shivers to blanket throwing sweats.
All the while sniffling and coughing and generally annoying my wife all night. She loves it when I wake her all night fighting to fluff the pillows and adjust myself for optimum mucus flow.
I could easily snag the lead role in a horror movie featuring the undead.
While I wait patiently for my chance to be a zombie movie star I will be over here all alone in my office. Half asleep and surrounded by a fog of disinfectant.
Whimpering, sniffling and coughing the song of my people.
The song of the common cold.
The song of the flu-pocalypse.