In the first stage of a cold, you receive the typical “announcement” that it is coming: a bit of a scratchy throat, an instance or two of needing to blow your nose, maybe even a bit of lethargy.
Oh yes, there’s definitely an enemy setting up camp somewhere in the recesses of your head.
However, you deny it. You rationalize with yourself. Those symptoms could happen on any other day and mean nothing. You remind yourself that many other days you feel lethargic, or mellow. Mellow, yeah, that’s it. You’re mellow today, and a day off of work would be delightful.
Instead of denying the inevitable, you should be running to the pharmacy and stocking up on daytime cold and flu meds, nighttime cough suppressants, throat lozenges, pain relievers, headache remedies, and massive quantities of tissues. While you’re at it, buy cases of ginger ale or sprite and plenty of orange juice for the Vitamin C. At least you’ll think you’re fighting this battle responsibly.
Don’t waste time about getting those supplies in. Then crawl into bed to savor whatever hours of sleep you can get, for the second stage of your head cold will set in tomorrow.
With. A. Vengeance.
You will be miserable. You will enter an unprecedented state of suffering.
You, and everyone else around you, will marvel at the copious amount of fluid that comes out of your head.
Sneezing, sniffling, coughing.
One blow of the nose annihilates a tissue, so you’d better use two at a time.
Your eyes flow rivers of tears for no reason at all.
A sneeze is ready to explode at a moment’s notice, but takes its good old time, just to irk you. Your face is held in that pre-sneeze grimace, and this trickery annoys the heck out of you (and makes you look darn silly too.)
There is no end to the amount of mucous coming out of your nostrils. How can this be? And where is it all coming