Someone To Watch Over Me
I hate summer colds. I hate them because they are stupid and because they are unnatural. We aren’t supposed to have summer colds. You want evidence? They’re called summer colds. We don’t call the others winter colds, or fall colds, or spring colds. A summer cold is like coming into someone’s living room in July and finding a fully decorated Christmas tree. It’s wrong and it’s weird and it makes people think less than charitably about the owner.
Yes, I just got over one. I only talk about something once I get over it because I am so heartily bored of getting sick. Illness is dull and I’m dull so often. I was a bronchial child. My room had to be repainted twice before I turned three because the humidifier ran so often it caused the paint to fall off the walls in strips. I have to moderate my distaste for the modern age and whatever horror I feel about what we’re doing to the planet because, the simple fact is, in Colonial times I would have been a tiny tombstone and a wee little coffin. But now we have potent antibiotics and I’m here, well enough to type and complain.
What’s so annoying about my immune system is how dumb it is. I caught this most recent cold from someone with whom I stood in the same yard. Outdoors. At most, a germ or two found its way into my system. All the bouncer at the gate of my respiratory system had to do was frown threateningly and lower the red rope and I’d have saved myself a box of Kleenex. I imagine, however, it went more like this:
OUTSIDE OF A NIGHTCLUB WITH A NEON SIGN READING “QUINN’S BODY”
A bouncer sits outside. A man walks up. He’s bald with tattoos everywhere including his neck and eyelids. He is carrying a gun. He is a cold virus.
BOUNCER: Can I help you?
COLD VIRUS: Yes, I want to go in and take Quinn’s immune system hostage and cause her to create lava-streams of mucus for about six days. I also have a dry cough I’d like to test out on her. Something new I’ve been tinkering with.
BOUNCER: Um, I’m not sure I can let you in.
COLD VIRUS: Sorry. I meant to say I’m your Aunt Barbara.
BOUNCER: Of course you are! Please, go right in.
COLD VIRUS: Can I have your ATM card?
BOUNCER: Sure. (He pulls it out of his wallet, hands it to the cold virus) The code is 0000. Nice to see you, Aunt Barbara. Give my regards to Uncle Ed.
Moron. And a day later I’m sleeping on an incline so I can breathe and everything tastes like shirt cardboard. If you think you have some natural or homeopathic solution to my immune system, assume I’ve already tried it. I could own a pair of Louboutin shoes with what I’ve spent on immune-strengtheners but I still catch a cold if I watch a “House" rerun.
No, it’s my path and Consort loves me anyway becaues it could be worse: I could have made a daughter exactly like myself and I didn’t. Daughter’s immune system could kick my immune system in “Jeopardy” any day of the week. That thought allows me to sleep at night.
Well, that and the Ny-Quil.
Yes, I just got over one. I only talk about something once I get over it because I am so heartily bored of getting sick. Illness is dull and I’m dull so often. I was a bronchial child. My room had to be repainted twice before I turned three because the humidifier ran so often it caused the paint to fall off the walls in strips. I have to moderate my distaste for the modern age and whatever horror I feel about what we’re doing to the planet because, the simple fact is, in Colonial times I would have been a tiny tombstone and a wee little coffin. But now we have potent antibiotics and I’m here, well enough to type and complain.
What’s so annoying about my immune system is how dumb it is. I caught this most recent cold from someone with whom I stood in the same yard. Outdoors. At most, a germ or two found its way into my system. All the bouncer at the gate of my respiratory system had to do was frown threateningly and lower the red rope and I’d have saved myself a box of Kleenex. I imagine, however, it went more like this:
OUTSIDE OF A NIGHTCLUB WITH A NEON SIGN READING “QUINN’S BODY”
A bouncer sits outside. A man walks up. He’s bald with tattoos everywhere including his neck and eyelids. He is carrying a gun. He is a cold virus.
BOUNCER: Can I help you?
COLD VIRUS: Yes, I want to go in and take Quinn’s immune system hostage and cause her to create lava-streams of mucus for about six days. I also have a dry cough I’d like to test out on her. Something new I’ve been tinkering with.
BOUNCER: Um, I’m not sure I can let you in.
COLD VIRUS: Sorry. I meant to say I’m your Aunt Barbara.
BOUNCER: Of course you are! Please, go right in.
COLD VIRUS: Can I have your ATM card?
BOUNCER: Sure. (He pulls it out of his wallet, hands it to the cold virus) The code is 0000. Nice to see you, Aunt Barbara. Give my regards to Uncle Ed.
Moron. And a day later I’m sleeping on an incline so I can breathe and everything tastes like shirt cardboard. If you think you have some natural or homeopathic solution to my immune system, assume I’ve already tried it. I could own a pair of Louboutin shoes with what I’ve spent on immune-strengtheners but I still catch a cold if I watch a “House" rerun.
No, it’s my path and Consort loves me anyway becaues it could be worse: I could have made a daughter exactly like myself and I didn’t. Daughter’s immune system could kick my immune system in “Jeopardy” any day of the week. That thought allows me to sleep at night.
Well, that and the Ny-Quil.
posted by Unknown at 2:35 PM
5 Comments:
A summer cold is a Different Animal. An Ugly Animal. Ooh.
Not so much wisdom of the ages as wisdom of Madison Avenue, but Madison Avenue was a lot wiser back then. :)
*fervently knocking wood* We have, thus far in my house, managed to avoid the Summer Cold. School just ended yesterday, so I ought to be sighing a breath of relief that my kid's twice-daily exposure to the breeding ground o' viruses otherwise known as the school bus is through, but alas, we've already had 3 playdates since school ended (one at the local science center - I forbade her from entering the ball pit area they had set up as part of one exhibit and liberally and repeatedly doused her with Purell) and I fear the Summer Cold will come knocking.....
I call Nyquil my magical elixir and that (cherry flavor, thankyouverymuch) and a snort or three of Afrin are the only things that ensure I remain human while my sinuses and upper respiratory tract go rogue and do their damn fine impression of Niagara Falls.
Maybe, just this once, we'll survive until school starts again in September with nary a virus. HA HA HA HA HA.
A nasal wash is a good "solution" to a bad bouncer problem.
I feel ya! My usual regimen of Tylenol Cold during the day and Nyquil at night didn't work for me this time around - I'm on day 3 of a zpack and FINALLY feel somewhat normal! Except for the crick in my neck which prevents me from looking left. I don't know what to do for that.
At least your immune system is only incompetent; mine goes out of its way to mess with me. My son is two months old and he gets over a cold faster than me! My immune system puts out the welcome mat and then comps extra weeks for any virus that so much as looks at me.
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