I am typing this from a half-upright position in my bed as for the last few days I have been nursing a cold that started out over the weekend as a half-hearted head cold but has since evolved into a Category Four Hurricane of wracking coughs and phlegmy expulsions. I am not a pretty sight. My husband thinks I’m pathetic. He doesn’t say it out loud of course, but I know what he’s thinking when I kick him awake at 1am so he can make me the first hot toddy of the day (technically after midnight it’s a new day). He very rarely gets sick (he says it’s because of his Scottish blood) and when he does he takes a handful of Ibuprofen (not recommended – it will probably puncture holes the size of asteroids in your stomach lining) and soldiers on. I guess it’s a good thing he doesn’t operate any heavy machinery. I on the other hand have no idea why anyone would want to go to work feeling like crap when they can wallow like I have in a bed reeking of honey and chicken soup…or is it that perspiration?
I spent most of Monday remunerating (aka sulking). I had a page long TO DO list at work and a number of personal chores to run (amongst these a parent teacher interview that my youngest son J, was dreading) that would have to be postponed Until Further Notice. I also had a personal commitment to write 1000 words a day which since I could barely trust myself to type one coherent sentence would have to be relegated like everything else to the TO DO WHEN I’M BETTER LIST. On Tuesday I felt well enough to build a small fortress of books around my bed (my husband is of the opinion I am trying to tell him something) before plunging glee-deep into Margaret Atwood’s Cat’s Eye. I have also been taking this time ‘off’ to catch up with reading my favourite blogs (thank you all – you know who you are – for keeping my brain from shutting down). I don’t sleep like I should when I’m sick. I tell my boys to get lots of sleep when they’re sick but I don’t know how to do it myself. I write stories in my head instead. I came up with the most AMAZING story ever yesterday and I even jotted down a basic storyline in my journal – the only problem is I can’t make out the writing. It’s like cuneiform. Who wrote that? I think I may have added 5 ounces whisky instead of two to my third of fourth hot toddy of the day, yesterday.
Hot Toddy Recipe
2 ounces whisky or rum
2 tablespoons honey
4 ounces hot water
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 slice fresh lemon
So how do you survive a week in bed with a cold or the flu? Make stuff up: stories, shapeless origami…Or better yet. Do nothing. There’s an art to Waiting. And if you can because your one nostril is unblocked long enough for you not to hear yourself fall asleep with your mouth open, sleep, there are countless health benefits to sleep.