I think it’s fairly common knowledge that most men are big babies when it comes to being sick. My step-father was no exception. He used to “joke” that he wanted my mom to bring him soouuuuup and juuuuiiicccce whenever he got a cold. He’d shuffle around in his bathrobe complaining, “I’m sick,” to anyone who’d pass by, regardless of whether or not they were listening (we weren’t).
Last week Graham got a cold and I must say…he didn’t really complain. He coughed up one good, “Ame, I’m sick,” the first day, and that was it. He got himself some good drugs and went to work. The cold got better in a day or two and life was fine until his germs leapt down my throat and took up residence.
Yes, I’ve been moaning and groaning. I don’t come right out and complain, but when I’m asked how I feel, I’m not lyin’. I feel like crap. Like my eyes are being squeezed out of my head. Like my face is on fire. Chapped lips, red nose, ears need to pop SICK. The highlight of this cold was last night’s fantastic Neocitrin high I caught just in time to make fun of American Idol (I won’t go on about that but holy mother of god, how exactly is it that Sanjaya is still there?). Today’s Dayquiled drive to Toronto should be interesting.
Much better than the sugary neocitrin is a homemade concoction (sp?) .. in the biggest mug you can find, take the juice of one whole lemon, the juice of one whole lime, drop a HEAPING tablespoon of honey in it, and pour the boiling water in to mix and melt the honey. (Add booze as desired/required.) My ex (the doctor one) used to prescribe this to his patients.
(PS. I’m assuming we’re rescheduling tomorrow ?.. ‘coz as bad as I feel for you both, I don’t want it!)