echinacea

Inhale…and…still trying

Leave a comment

My usual daily attitude is one of supreme happiness. I mark my visage with a gloriously toothy grin. I smile at one and all. There is always something around me that can make me feel content about life. I am your typical Pollyanna believing that every day can be the “Best Day Ever”! That WAS true until yesterday at about 2:42 pm when my cheery soul was kidnapped and replaced with a dark a demented life sucker.

What happened? I am the poster child for health. Got a cold? I’ll be your healer. Nothing ever affects me. Ever. Well, the day of “ever” has finally arrived and I have been royally knocked over onto my keister. Maybe I’m being overdramatic, but saying I’ll rather be dead is really a thought that has crossed my mind. Let me explain how my brain when from sunshine and lollipops to a machete-wielding psychopath.

TIMELINE:

Day 1: Slight sniffle. Nothing new there. It’s a transition from my nice warm home to the chilly outdoors. The air is cool and refreshing. It’s winter in Canada. I have my down-filled winter coat on. I am wearing my fur-lined hood. I have my thick winter gloves on and my faux-fur lined woolly boots. My body is sufficiently protected from the elements. I have preheated my car and I’m ready to roll. *sneeze.

Day 2: *sniffle, sniffle, sniffle, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze, sneeze. Ok, this is annoying. *blow nose. Ok, that’s 6 facial tissues used in as many seconds. This ain’t right. (Yeah, my brain forgets grammar when I’m not feeling 100%). Ok, it’s a cold. Drink lots of fluids. Amp up the Vitamin C. Pull out the echinacea pins. All defenses up! Time to get fighting! I am ready for battle!

Day 3: *cough, cough, sniffle, sniffle, sneeze, sneeze, blow nose. My eyes are going to fall out of my head. Really, it’s true! Blinking is actually painful. I never realized how often I blink in one day. My sinuses…my throat…my ears…my nose. I am very aware of my facial orifices. Everything hurts. My nose is raw and red from sneezing and blowing. My sinuses are chock full of something because they are the ones trying to push my eyeballs out of my head. The pain is incredible. Ouch. I blinked again. THAT HURTS! How is it possible that blinking hurts! I have had migraines, and that is painful, but this whole body soreness is … NO I’M NOT WHINING!

Day 4: *cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze, nose whistle, sneeze, blow nose. I think a bug landed on my arm. There is a bruise the size of a grapefruit there now. I never knew how much skin I had on my body. I put some hand cream on my crocodile-skin legs and arms. The chore itself made me wonder how I usually have the ability to lift my arms daily, as now they each weigh about 2000 lbs. How does my neck hold my head? It really is a a miracle. Breathing…something I definitely took for granted. I try to breathe through my mouth because my nose no longer wants to do that job. *Inhale…COUGH COUGH HACK HACK COUGH COUGH! Right! That’s why my nose needs to get back to doing the breathing thing ’cause my mouth doesn’t want to be the substitute. My next thought…I wonder if I can learn to breathe through my ears. It might be easier.

Day 5:

Day 6: I don’t know what happened to day 5. With my Sherlock Holmes hat on, I survey my surroundings and try to deduce what happened. Here is what I see: Box of facial tissues…an empty box. Pile of “used” tissues. Bottle of water. Bottles of pills: Vitamin C, Vitamin B complex, echinacea, Advil. Small bottle of Eucalyptus essential oil, mug with camomile tea bag, jar of honey, spoon of honey stuck to nightstand. Shot glass? *sniff. Cognac. Well, looks like Day 5 was my Armageddon. I chose my weapons both herbal and man-made. Looks like my flu bug cocktail of choice knocked me out for the day. Unconsciousness was a much better way of dealing with this hideous illness. Good news…at home and not in hospital.

Day 7: One week of my life play “Torturing Pollyanna”. Wait…*sniff. I think my one nostril is working. *cough, cough. Ok, so if I inhale I cough. Breathing leads to venomous vipers ripping at my throat. Still trying to get my ears to do my breathing.

Day 8: Have I blinked yet today? I must have. No pain. *blink-blink. Woo hoo! I am on the mend! My nose…oh bless you…no, not from sneezing. Bless you for coming off strike and taking up your old job again. I love you, you snot-filled wonder. You are incredible. I touch my nose, gingerly. The poor thing is so sore. It’s scraped raw from all that horrible facial tissue. My arms aren’t as heavy anymore. They feel like they weigh their usual normal weight. What is that…off in the distance? Are we reaching the finish line toward salvation?

Day 15: It has been 3 weeks and I feel like a totally different person. I am reborn. I am so grateful for surviving that horrible illness. It wasn’t even the flu like I thought. I never had a fever. But let me tell you, I am beyond happy at being one of the healthy again. I love my nose, my throat, my lungs. I even love my ears (I do think at one point they did take in a few breaths for me…how else could I have survived?).

So, my Pollyanna-ism has grown exponentially larger. I am even more grateful and happy with everything I have in my life. My happy medicine that healed me. My body that worked hard to get me back to my usual happy self.

Salute! To my body…you are incredible!

If you got what I got…you’re welcome!

Leave a comment

I love touting the fact that I don’t get sick.  If I feel like my throat is getting sore, or I have a slight sniffle, I grab for my bottle of echinacea and start taking a pill three times a day.   I ensure that I have at least a tablespoon of honey and that there is a nice hot tea that will keep me warm and hydrated.  Yes, that usually does the trick.  Oh, and I like to tell myself, and everyone else, that I am NOT sick.  Lying to myself is usually the best way to ensure that the little germs and virus and bacteria stay away from my humble body.  Well, this time the “bug-ger” got through.  No denying it.  I am sick!

I am sick of being sick.  I have actually been staving off this stupid illness since 2017.  It has been trying to lay waste to my body since about August of last year.  My tried and true methods were tried and true then.  When everyone had sinus infections, plugged ears, ratchety or phlegmy coughs, horrendous sneezes and other germ spreading conditions, I had managed to stay healthy.  Oh sure, there was the occasional whisper of a sneeze.  Sometimes there was a bit of a scratchy throat, but I prevailed.  Nay, I conquered!  What the hell happened this time?

Oh sure, I heard people at work sneezing, but I was fortified with vitamin C.  My apple a day, my healthy vegetables.  I washed my hands to the point of cracked dryness.  Why oh why did I suddenly end up like this?

I am weak.  The thought of getting out of bed leaves me in anguish.  That would mean lifting my 100 lb head off the pillow.  That would mean getting out of a nice, warmed up area and exposing my hot, sweaty body to the frigid cold of the room.  21 degrees celsius or 70 degrees fahrenheit.  Brrrrr.  The thought of motion, leaves me weak.  Can I make it all the way down those stairs to get to the bathroom?  Will my knees give out?  Will my head loll forward, making me lose my balance, thus having me careen down the stairs?  What if I can’t lift myself off the toilet once I have completed my duties (doody?).

Why do my eyes feel like sandpaper?  It hurts when I try to look around.  Even blinking doesn’t help.  There is this immense pressure just in behind them.  Or is that beside them?  Huh…seems like it’s in between my eyes.  Yes, that’s where it is.  If I manage to raise a hand to touch the side of my nose it feels like my eyes are going to bug out and fall to the floor.  I think my half-closed eyelids are managing to keep those vision balls in my head.

Oh…my head.  My brain is trying to think of stuff.  It’s trying really hard, but there is this weird fog up there.  As I type, I see my fingers moving, but am not sure how.  My burning eyes are looking at them because those flesh-coloured sticks seem to be moving on their own.  My grey matter can’t be telling them what to do.  All the penthouse presider is thinking is, “why aren’t we in bed sleeping?”

I recall being at the top of the stairs.  Then I recall being in the bathroom.  Then stuff gets misty.  No more recall.  Ah, I see a cup of tea beside me.  Huh…must’ve made that at some point.  Good call brain!

I thought it was a good call.  I burnt my tongue.  Then again, it doesn’t matter because I can’t really taste anything anyway.  There is this blanket, a white blanket, covering my tongue.  So, burnt tongue may not taste anything, but it definitely felt something.  While its charred, maybe I should have some nutritious soup.  That should help heal me.  It has worked in the past.  I’ll add my echinacea to the mix and some man-made ibuprofen and the dinnertime cocktail with healing powers is ready to go.  This will entail more walking.

My brain is saying something.  Move feet.  Move feet.  *shuffling feet*  Well, it’s a start.  Now arms.  Lift.  Why won’t my arms listen to my instructions?  I command them to lift up and yet they just hang there, listlessly, by my side.  We need to heat up soup pronto.

“Go to bed,” brain murmurs.

“I need food,” says…is that my brain too?  OMG I am getting a split personality!

“Go to bed,” Brain 1.

“I’m hungry,” Brain 2.

Achoo! *sniffle*.  Great!  Now there is something running down my face.  At least I have feeling in my face.  That’s a good thing right?  Heading way too close to my lips.  Time to blow my nose.  Oh good.  One of the brains has decided that my feet and hands can work again.  Itchy, watery eyes have honed in on the box of facial tissue.  *shuffle, shuffle, shuffle* and hand reach.  Looks like the body is working in harmony again. Blow nose, discard germy tissue and while I’m funtioning as a human again I will get that soup going to boil.

(Time passes).  Empty bowl in front of me.  Numb tongue.  Belly full.  I think I ate my soup.  I feel full.  Time to lumber up, sloth style…nice and slow…and fall back into bed.

If all goes well, my energy conservation and my healthy meal should give me enough germ fighting energy to get me back up on my feet again tomorrow.  Another day in which my brain will function as one unit.  My body will listen to all its orders.  My sinuses will happily drain out leaving me with wide-opened, focused eyes and no throbbing pressure.  I will LIVE again.  I will be happy to have survived this debilitating flu!

I will be so thankful and grateful!  I will spread joy and happiness to everyone!  Or maybe I’ll just spread this virus around and share the misfortune.  Sometimes, by living through the bad, you really appreciate all the good you have.  So, if you got what I got, then all I can say is “you’re welcome!”