Cold

The Aussies have a phrase for it - put the mocker on. I guess the Yanks would say "jinx".  So depending on your hometown, I either put the mocker on my cold or just plain jinxed myself by writing in my last post that I had the kind of cold that "won't get serious enough to make you really sick for a day or two and then leave."

On Tuesday night my cold did get serious and I ended up looking like those guys in the cold remedy commercials - coughing, wheezing, eyes running, nose bright red and sore. That night I took an expectorant, a bronchial dilator, a medicated throat lozenge, an antihistamine tablet, nasal spray, aspirins and two glasses of wine and went to bed.

I wondered briefly about the interaction of all these things but felt so lousy that I figured it would either cure me or kill me. Of course, it did neither. While I slept like a log for a few hours, I was up before 5 when the cough returned and made sleep impossible.

All of which would not be such a big deal but Wednesday was the day to drive back to Pittsford New York from Vermont. The night before we had thought we may have to postpone a day or two, but the early morning travel advisories basically said to get on the road now and beat the storm.

Packing the car reminded me that while I HAD a cold, outside it WAS cold. The temperature was 8 Fahrenheit, but felt like -2 according to the weather web site. I won't convert this to Centigrade for the Aussies because none of you would even be able to comprehend how cold that is. Let's just say, I discovered that at this temperature I no longer coughed. I think that's because the crap in my lungs just froze and waited until I got inside again.

After too quick a good-bye to my Mom and Dad, we hit the road and decided to make the 5-hour drive straight through in case the snowstorms came in earlier than forecast. LK acted as co-pilot and chief medicator for the trip, handing me lozenges, inhalers, water or whatever else I needed when a coughing fit hit.

Which it did quite often.

During the trip my cough, which had been dry and rasping, loosened up considerably.  I used the opportunity to clear the mucus from my lungs - which is a neutral way to describe that disgusting noise you make when hawking up a pearl as you imitate a cat trying to get rid of a 2-pound hairball.

"That's good," I said to LK as we neared our destination. "The mucus is getting much looser and I am really able to clear it from my lungs."

She paused a moment before replying, "The problem is you've been saying and doing that for about five hours now and I've had to sit here and listen to it over and over again."

Which only goes to show that what seems like good news to the husband may some times have a downside for his wife.

We're back at Peg's through Christmas, then back to Oz on Boxing Day.