The soundtrack to my holidays has been like Weird Science. Mostly because I love 80’s music but you always feel like maybe there’s a better song out that that wasn’t 80’s. That’s how I felt, it was good but would have been better if I didn’t catch the flu followed by a horrific head cold. Actually my soundtrack would be more like NE-YO’s So Sick, because I was an absolute gross mess.
We had our work pot luck the day before the first day of our holidays, Wednesday the 22nd of December, and I was fine alllllllll day, but somehow as soon as everything was done and I sat back down at my desk around 2pm, my throat felt swollen out of nowhere. Around 2:30pm my head felt dizzy and rivalled a vice grip. Went home early, went to bed at 5pm as soon as I got home, just collapsed in my bed.
All night I couldn’t sleep, I felt like my head was on fire, I was hot and cold every other minute, and just a general feeling of discomfort. [Warning: the following has been rated G for Gross] I also had a fever by this point and was breaking out into cold sweat all night, waking up looking like I jumped in a pool. Uncontrollable shivering and headaches, this went on for about 3 nights until the fever broke.
Like everyone knows, a good head cold comes in waves. First wave you have a sore throat, maybe a little swollen, but a general discomfort. Then you have head pressure, sinus pressure, or dizziness and vertigo. Then the fever, which takes a couple nights of sweating gross mess before it goes away: With that comes chills, bouts of seizure-like shivering that make you feel possessed and like screaming at a priest. Once the fever breaks of course your throat becomes more swollen and sore, accompanied by trouble swallowing your own salvia without cursing the world. I like to think of this as needles-in-throat, and swollen lymph nodes in your neck that make you look like Violet Beauregarde after the 3 course dinner gum.
After this is the stuffy nose in which you can’t even breathe out of so you have to sleep propped up which means you wake up with a kink in your neck and find out that never even did anything anyway because the contents of your nose are now in your throat like glue and no matter how much you blow your nose it’s all over for you buddy, it’s like perma-allergies 24/7. You’re afraid to lay down in case you can never breathe again and fall into some sleep comatose like Rip Van Winkle which I always confuse with Rumpelstiltskin for some reason. Then the debilitating coughing… Oh the coughing. The kind where your lungs feel like pieces of them are being penetrated by ice picks, and which reach the same decibel level as a jackhammer, and ironically that’s what it sounds like. Coughing fits in which you feel like you might as well give up and stuck water instead of air and let your cough live on like that bitch did from The Abyss, giving your life to your cough like Ed Harris.
For almost two whole weeks my life was Tom Cruise grade controlled, and hindered me from actually enjoying my holidays. Things like sleeping past 6am were impossible due to lack of oxygen from multiple mediums explained above (See: coughing, stuffy nose), fatigue made me exhausted and ironically I couldn’t sleep even when I went to bed early or tried to nap, and the worst reason sleeping was a problem was ghosts, but that’s for another post.
Today was the first day I actually slept, and I woke up at 12:30pm which was in itself, glorious and heart wrenching thinking about the fact this was my only holiday day left and the only one I feel normal for. The best part is I take daily vitamins, and immune system bombs which fought off sickness for almost a whole year, and the day before the potluck I was driving home and I thought to myself: “Holy crap, I actually haven’t been sick all year.” And like a pimp’s back hand, I got the bitchslap of my life the next day when I would unknowingly spent almost 14 days to get over the Rosie O’Donnell of what is a usual 5-7 day cold.
Thanks a lot Jack Frost and Santa, for what I assume is a cruel idea of a joke in what I can only suspect was a tag team effort to ruin my holidays and my life for two weeks. Oh yea, Robitussin can kiss my ass, the only thing that works is Buckley’s and it tastes like what I would guess Ke$ha or Keith Richards would taste like it you licked them. I felt like I wanted to gag, and curiously also like Ke$ha and Keith Richards, I have a pretty good gag reflex (Bazinga).
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