Joys of the Common Cold

Well here we are ..the time of the year when the common cold virus is prevalent.
Even though the common cold is a dreadful virus it far better to endure than influenza.
A couple of weeks ago this dreaded common cold attacked Sam and then last Friday I succumbed.
I couldn’t lift my  head of the pillow for two days and now l resemble a hunter who has been beaten up by a bear.
I look dreadful, so dreadful.
I was forced to hang towels over all the mirrors in our home as I was starting to scare myself.

I struggled out yesterday to get some Panadeine as this is the only medication that works for me and a few essential groceries.
The only painkillers in the house were paracetamol which works for the rest of my family when on death’s door but not me.
As I struggled through Super Value, horribly embarrassed at being there, as the staff must want to throttle people like me, spreading their germs to all and sundry.
I mumbled I was a bit crook and sped like a lunatic around the shop so was out in a few minutes.
I nearly forgot Dave’s booze as he was delivering some last minute Granny Smith orders for us.
The orders came through just before we closed for the Season and they were quite happy to wait for Dave to deliver them as he comes through to Central once a month.
He gets booze this end for his trouble and cakes at the other end.
A very happy man.

I collapsed in bed when I got home.
Sam gently scolded me when he discovered I had been shopping as he had strictly told me in the morning that he would get anything I needed.
Such a good son.

It struck Ruby yesterday and today she looks like she has been beaten up by my bear but after some paracetamol she says she is ready for work albeit slowly.    Belle hasn’t succumbed yet and hopefully she won’t.
She has an amazing immune system……my dear gorgeous little Belle.
On a brighter note, whilst in bed last night, the phone went and on the end of the line was a dear old family friend.
He was having a boring night as there was nothing to watch on TV so thought a yarn with his old mate Sandra was just what the Doctor ordered.

After realising I was at death’s door, he went on to tell me, whiskey is the elixir of life and is maliciously misrepresented as it saves lives when the common cold or influenza strikes so how could it be evil!
I have heard this story hundreds of times with  a little bit more information added on each time yet I still smile at his quick wit.
Once he realised I didn’t have long for this world, he offered to drive up with a bottle.
I declined his gracious offer.
He then admitted that he may have drunk a wee bit too much for him to get behind the wheel of his car BUT could courier me up a  bottle or two the next day.
I again declined.

At sixty-three I feel I may be a bit too old to take up the joyful art of drinking booze.
But then again he is well in his eighties so he just may be drinking a longevity liquid.
I bought him a breathalyser for his last birthday which he loves.
Not that he has ever driven drunk, he would never dream of it as this is one subject that gets him angry.
He shops once every few weeks and when he decides the day, he stops drinking at 5pm the night before and only starts the car up at 2pm.
This dear man does no harm to anyone; is kind, funny, thoughtful, lonely at times, highly intelligent, doesn’t suffer fools gladly, non-judgemental, grows wonderful veggies,  and I am proud to call him my friend.

Sadly there are those who call him “the old drunk”.

Shame on them.




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