I feel fuzzy.
I have a cold. Most often, I can dodge colds and the flu. When I’m sick, I can shake it off after two or three days.
Regardless of how long, when I’m sick, I’m not just sick. It’s the “Man-Cold.”
The Man-Cold is a blanket term for men and women who whine like a puppy left in a kennel when they’re sick. Because we’re sick. And it’s icky.
Day one? The Man-Cold crept in:
“Oh, this is how it ends,” I said, followed by a house shaking cough. “I’ll never finish my novel or see the Alamo.”
“You never wanted to see the Alamo,” said my husband.
“That’s not the point.”
On day two, I was convinced there wouldn’t be a day three. Surely, one shouldn’t feel such ickiness. My joints ached. My nose was red. My eyes. Where were my eyes? My sinuses were so puffy, I looked like a hollowed out pumpkin. My throat felt like a cat used my tonsils as a scratching post. I lay on the couch, staring at Pinterest. I’m sure at that point I was delirious with a pending fever. Pinning sewing ideas when I have no idea how to spin a bobbin.
My husband walked into the living, smirking when he saw me. Pumpkin cheeks, red rose, surrounded by a mountain of tissues.
“What do you want for lunch?”
With the last of my energy, I said, “Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, then salmon.”
“Almond butter sandwich. Cut into fours. Crusts cut off … please.”
Continue reading “The Man-Cold – It’s Not Just For Men”
Tammy W. Karatchuk 