Resistance is Futile

What’s the worst part about having a cold, sore throat and lung infection? I’d say it’s a tie: all of them are lousy.

Modern colds have evolved to a point that they are smarter than you are, and defeat humans by causing a pervasive and crippling stuffiness. This stuffy state mandates blowing the nose non-stop, and produces a mountain of soggy and crumpled Kleenex. This doesn’t even really do anything, since after blowing, your nose is still non-functioning. Let‘s face it, your head feels like a block of wood instead of a human head. You can’t breathe, so sleeping is impossible, or as Seven of Nine would say, futile.

Not being able to breathe is only one facet of a cold. There’re the aches and pains, mostly above the neck, where my more important parts are. There are the pounding headaches, the low burn of unhappy sinuses, and searing pain around the eyes. Why is it that my eyes hurt?

The French have a way with colorful expressions, and they got this one right. One of the first French phrases I learned was, “J’ai un rhume abominable.” It’s not, “I have a cold” or “I have a bad cold” but “I have a lousy, rotten, horrible, stinkin’ cold.”

Then there is the pile-driver coughing that occurs 24/7 and shakes the entire body. It feels like you have returned from a heroic mission in space, and your Mercury space capsule is about to crash on the flight deck of a nearby aircraft carrier. Imagine this crash-landing occurring twice a second ten to thirty times in a row: that’s what the coughing feels like. It turns the throat into raw meat, sore and sensitive. Talking above a whisper is about all you can do.

And, oh yeah, it makes sleeping impossible.

Don’t forget the sneezing. This can also be violent, and rips up the already delicate throat even more. My sneezes scare the cat so much he jumps three feet in the air. If he’s lucky he won’t land in the soggy Kleenex.

Lastly, let’s talk about the most unpleasant part, the lung infection. This involves painfully coughing up disgusting green stuff, which must be captured and disposed of in a civilized and expeditious manner. I’d post a photo but I would probably get arrested. If you wait long enough you might catch a hi-res photo on WikiLeaks or a video on YouTube.

When you cough up icky green stuff it’s something that involves the entire body, and of course, it prevents you from sleeping.

Sleeping is futile.

So what can you do? There’s chicken soup, tea, cough drops, and all sorts of pills marketed by big, unsympathetic companies making specious claims. Nothing helps. Nothing.

Resistance is futile.

A weaker man would fantasize about Jeri Ryan as a personal nurse. She could wear one of those little outfits that naughty girls buy for Halloween, bring me soup and tea, and say, “There, there“ in a reassuring way. As I said, only a weak man would think about that. But when you’re sick as a dog as I am right now, when you feel as lousy, and when you yearn for the ability to breathe and sleep — and you know it won’t happen for a while — it weakens even a strong man.

I hate being sick. Somebody shoot me.

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