Fighting a Cold

Some of you may know that I quit smoking, almost a year ago. I had made a couple of efforts after my heart episode, but the flu last year did the trick. By the time I was well enough to step outside, I hadn’t had a cigarette in 14 days. So while Shawn has cut back, I am smoke free, only occasionally puffing on an electric one to get me through the worst times and cravings.

This cold, that we managed to pick up and bring home, keeps trying to move into my chest and I cough hard enough to see stars, but so far, we are keeping it contained. We broke a cardinal rule in our house, my husband and I are sick at the same time. We usually manage to do us one at a time. Together we are a puddle of misery, but luckily it will be past soon, or so I keep thinking. He does his best to sleep through it, checking out. I need to distract myself.

In a wicked moment of bad holiday cheer we contemplated taking this cold to the store and gifting it to some poor unsuspecting stranger. Surely we could find someone who deserves a stuffed head, sore throat and a creeping into your chest feeling of congestion. One thing is for sure, we are not giving it to my parents. Instead we crawled under the covers and slept.