Well Enough Alone

I have heard it said that misery loves company, but I must disagree. I felt miserable all weekend, and I can tell you with a great deal of certainty that I did not wish for any company (even more so than usual). It could be said that I was better left alone.

I left work Friday at the end of the day with more than a tickle in my throat – it was like I had an entire down-filled pillow stuffed in there. My intermittent sneezing and coughing that had gone on throughout the day turned into a regular hack attack – a real joy to be around.

I went to bed early that night in a vain attempt to stave off the inevitable: I was going to be sick. The next day, after almost twelve hours of sleep, the chills and fever showed up uninvited to join the coughing, sneezing and runny nose. This made me wonder if perhaps misery does, indeed, love company.

Saturday dragged on like an old horse pulling an over-loaded cart. I don’t know if this is a common casualty of the common cold, but along with my physical strength being attacked when I get sick, I often begin to lose a grip on my mental faculties as well. It may be the fever setting it – or it may be the thinning of the line that defines sanity.

It begins with the irrational thought I may never get better again. In fact, there comes a time when I can’t even imagine it. As I move about the house, I will catch myself standing in one place for several minutes trying to clear my head. The nights are filled with sounds and voices that have no place in reality; simple, meaningless dreams reoccur several times a night and only leave when I am fully awake.

My senses get all goofed up. My sense of humor disappears for a time, as nothing seems remotely funny. Whereas sight, smell and taste are diminished, touch and hearing are heightened so much so that I don’t even need my glasses on to hear properly. Along with a more sensitive sense of touch, I become rather selective when it comes to my choice of facial tissue. In the beginning of the cold cycle I will use a table napkin or a paper towel to wipe my nose, in the end I insist on high quality facial tissue (Kleenex brand) or the convenience of a roll of soft toilet paper for those big jobs and successive sneezing sessions.

I think the common cold must hit professional sports quite hard. For instance, I have noticed with some frequency that a hockey player will leave the ice bleeding from the mouth only to return with the next shift, but two weeks later that same player will miss an entire game with an “undisclosed illness.”  I’m guessing he’s down with a bad cold and they don’t want him infecting the rest of the team.

So the question remains, when is someone well enough to get back in the game and when are they sick enough that they should just stay home? In the first-century they instituted a practice where the public decided. Whenever they saw someone with a runny nose or sneeze more than once in succession they shouted “Unclean” and pelted them with rocks driving them away. Or was that how they dealt with leprosy? On second thought, maybe we should just leave well enough alone.