|Cold Ron (note, please don't use this as your Facebook profile picture without my permission)|
This is the first year I can remember since we moved to Delaware in November of 2006 that I haven't had a cold.
In my Flaming Youth I never got colds. I remember there were times I wish I had a cold so I could get out of school. One time, when I was twelves years old, I even foolishly cavorted around outside in the cold winter air hoping to get a cold. Didn't happen. I was always healthy as a horse. The only school days I ever missed was because I was quarantined because of one of my brothers' illnesses. I even missed my sixth grade class trip to Washington D.C. because my brothers John and Isaac had scarlet fever. This was back in the Fifties when our doctor (Dr. Neff, who actually visited your home with his black bag, imagine that) slapped a big red quarantined sign on the door to our cockroach infested apartment at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown, Pennsylvania.
All the years I worked at the bank in Philadelphia, I never got a cold until the last few years. I remember one time riding the train in and another passenger sneezed on the back of my neck. Two days later I had a cold you wouldn't believe.
Of course I tried to work through the cold and continued to go to work. This wasn't school days I was trying to miss. I had a lot of responsibility and just couldn't afford to miss any work. Didn't do me any good though, I was useless at work. In addition to spreading germs willy nilly, I just didn't have any energy. I remember going home on the train, I was ensconced in the back seat of the train, sniffling, sneezing and aching all over. When I head the conductor yell "Downingtown!" I just couldn't move. I wanted to stay on that train and go wherever it was going to take me. I wanted to die.
Since moving to Delaware, I've caught at least two big colds a year. Two years ago I had a cold so bad that I went to the doctor's for the first time in my life. I was so congested that I was afraid if I went to sleep I wouldn't wake up. Turns out it was a good thing I did because my doctor told me that my left lung had filled up and if I had waited much longer I would have pneumonia. That scared me.
That diagnosis reminded me of a 31 year old co-worker of mine when I worked at Girard Bank. He was a very active guy and like me, he wasn't going to let a few sniffles stop him from going to work and playing ice hockey after work. The next day he didn't come into work. I asked "Where's Rich?" I was told "Oh, didn't you hear?" I said "No, what happened?" I was told "After he finished his hockey game after work he went home. They found him dead in his car which was parked in his driveway. The doctor said he had 'walking pneumonia." Well folks, I had never heard of walking pneumonia before but I never forgot that incident.
So folks, about three times this season when I felt a cold coming on I took a shot of freshly squeezed orange juice and a Cold EeZe table (which doesn't taste all that great by the way).
So far so good except for last night. About four hours into my shift at the hotel I got the nose running like a spigot (or "faucet" for my Canadian readers). Oh uh, COLD.COMING.ON.
Last night I slept like the dead. This morning I had an early appointment at my dermatologist (yes, more slicing and dicing Ron - this time to scrap a keratosis patch off of my left side under my arm - why it's there I have NO IDEA).
|My dermatologist's office - my home away from home|
Right now I'm updating this blog but shortly I will have lunch then REST. Thank God today is sunny, no snow (YES!) and we have power, unlike so many of my fellow citizens just to the north of us here in LSD.
I'm thankful I don't have to go into work until next Tuesday. I'm going to spend the next two or three days here at Casa Tipton-Kelly, nursing this cold. It's all good folks, I have a nice, solar warmed, sunny bedroom. And that's where I'll be if anyone is looking for me.
Have a great day!