The last day of school before winter break I had a little cold that lasted for three days. I thought it was allergies, set off from being inside a school. I’m either allergic to the cleaning chemicals or the dirty, recirculated air or memories planted deep in my subconscious. The allergies linger for three days. Whatever. I don’t think anything of it. I’m fine.
Winter break comes and my husband, Skye, gets “the cold” that was, for me, just allergies. Only he’s crabby, coughing, bedridden and asking me to feel his forehead. “Do I have a fever?”
I can’t understand how my little three-day sneezing/sniffling “allergy cold” is having this affect on him. I give him no slack. No sympathy. No can I get you anythings. This is clearly “The Man Cold” and I will not play into the drama.
Finally, on the last day of his cold, in the evening when I am feeling weak, I hear Skye coughing from behind the closed bedroom door where he has been camping out continuously. I ask if I can get him our son’s inhaler and anything else for his cough. I am really thinking of me, because I don’t think I could go through another night with “the cough”.
Miraculously, the next day he is back to his regular self. I can’t believe it. What a wuss, right?
A day or two later, I get “The Man Cold”. I realize Holy S**t! This isn’t the man cold! This is the flu! I try for four days to cough up what feels like a piece of glass or maybe a burr. Perhaps a small Brillo pad. It is lodged in my bronchioles. I can point to exactly where it is and have thought for long hours how I could reach in there with a Q-tip or an Exacto knife and scrape it out since no amount of coughing will wiggle it loose. The thought of it makes me cough..[read more HERE