Wednesday, September 12, 2012

...my civility has been compromised

The black smear above my left eye is yesterday's
mascara. My personal hygiene has also been
compromised. And my nose appears to have lost its 
puggishness.

I have a cold. A vicious, nasty, slap me down to the floor cold. And nothing - well, perhaps the IRS   - gets less respect than a head cold. Even the name is a misnomer. The misery goes far beyond the head. Chills, fever, coughing. And that's the fun stuff. My nose is raw. My eyeballs hurt. My hair hurts. I'm beginning to doubt that this is a cold. I have, I fear, East Nile Mad Cowbird Flumonia.

Remember that truism: "If you ask for patience, you'll get lots of chances to practice it." Well, evidently the same holds true for civility. I'm trying. I'm really, truly trying to practice what I've been preaching.

My friend, Deb, said, "Chicken soup, tea with honey and lemon." And added, if we were closer, she'd make a batch and bring it over. She would. Good woman. Alas, I live on San Francisco Bay and she is in Birmingham, Alabama. Walt wrote "sleep juices chicken soup." Added "good luck", bless his heart. At the moment, the only way I'm getting chicken soup is if a hen walks in, throws herself in a pot (after laying a couple of fresh eggs) and serves herself up.

Out of honey, I did make a cup of Irish Breakfast tea with lemon. Went something like this. I lay in bed, my head underneath the duvet clad in yoga pants, wool socks, a tee, a sweat shirt and a coat. Wishing that I still had hot flashes. "Tea. She said tea." I rolled over. "Tea." Pulled the duvet down. Pulled it back up. Thought through the process: tea would require filling a cup (thank you, Shannon, for the "Peace" cup...I need this). Then I'd have to walk across the kitchen (three steps) and microwave the water. This would involve standing for two minutes. Then I'd have to wait for the tea to steep. That would be another minute. Tear open two Truvias (oh, the agony of the sound of paper ripping). Cut a lemon. Could I be trusted with a knife?

I finally dragged into the kitchen and made the tea. Drank it. Decided to write a post to get my mind off things. After all, I can lie flat and type on the wireless keyboard with my eyes closed. So here I am, sharing the joys of cold-dom with y'all. Now, though, I'm headed back to bed. Just one more thing: Is it "Starve a fever; feed a cold" or "Feed a fever; starve a cold?" And what happens when you have both? Intervention, please.

I'm back in bed, under the duvet. I've peaked and am sinking once again. My eyeballs have maxed out. This may be serious. I don't even want to watch "Say Yes to the Dress", the episode with battling sisters. And I suspect the fevers make me delusional: I feel wittier than I am. Therefore, in order to regain my sense of civility, I'm practicing patience.

Patience is the ability to idle your motor
when you feel like stripping your gears.
Barbara Johnson





5 comments:

Carole said...

Am I allowed to laugh a little at this post? You see, I haven't had much opportunity to call in and catch up with your wonderful blog lately, but this morning I'm feeling absolutely dreadful with a head cold so thought I'd get on with some things online as I do not have the energy to do anything else! You have my sympathy my friend as I'm right there with ya! Carole x

PS Its 'feed a cold, starve a fever' (and drink plenty of green tea and echinacea if you can get it) x

Celeste said...

Please, please, laugh, dear Carole. I hope you feel better soon. My fever is finally down (thanks for the advice, by the way). Hopefully, my civility is less compromised and, as for personal hygiene, I took a shower.

Love you!

GretchenJoanna said...

Oh, Dear Celeste, I'm so sorry you are feeling this way. At least you have enough spunk to write a blog post, and I hope it made you feel a little better. Also getting up to make yourself some tea was valiant, it really was, and if you could have done only one thing besides write on your blog, that was the BEST thing. God bless you!

Carole said...

I'm still feeling like death, but having to drop my youngest off at University today. The last one to fly the nest. At least if my eyes are red-rimmed and moist as I leave her there no-one will know if its tears or just this terrible cold!

Celeste said...

Right after I wrote my "East Nile Mad Cowbird Flumonia" quip, local news announced of two cases of West Nile Virus near our home! No rash, just evidently a truly persistent cold that has yet to take its leave. Gretchen, thinking of you and your family. Checked the blog to see if the little one has arrived. Whatever the status, I know you are enjoying this time. Carole, I hope you are feeling better! And adjusting to this new phase of life. One minute, a babe in arms...the next, off to university and on to other places. What a journey. Grateful for fellow sojourners! Love and blessings to you both.