Spring is coming, or so they say, and with it comes allergies. I can run in a field of daisies, snort raw grass pollen, and tickle my nose with Ragweed and nothing happens. But one little stroll anywhere near a Birch or Alder tree in late Feb. or early March, and I am caught in a fit of sneezes bad enough to blow my brains out.
And so, I thought it was the allergy season for me, about two weeks late this year, when I came home from a walk in the woods on Monday and started blasting everything in sight. I was sure it was not a cold because there was no sore throat, cough, or headache. Until later that evening.
I am now four days into a fierce head cold and have been laying low, very low. Today I turned the corner and seem to have re-gained my will to live, which had abandoned me completely just yesterday. Is it my imagination or is it more difficult now, with the years accumulating, to handle a bit of infirmity? I do not get under the weather often, but when I do it seems to sap the strength and energy and zest, and just about everything else out of my life. Am I getting a glimpse of the reasoning that the elderly have that when they reach the end and get sick, they lose the will to live? I may be exaggerating a bit when I say that it happened to me, but it was a new feeling, though faint. Even when the sun was out yesterday for a few minutes, I could not have cared less. This is not normal for me. But it is only a cold, and with a few box of tissues and a whole lot of Dristan, hot tea, Vit C, etc., etc., I will soon be done with it.
And that little cartoon at the top of this post ..... that was totally me for two days.