The Common Cold

For the last five years, I've lived with what the National MS Society refers to as a "chronic," "progressive," and "often disabling" disease.  No biggie. I pride myself on my ability to stay mobile and positive and to focus on the things I can change. I am not lying when I tell people that MS has given me more than it has taken away. Truly. I actually believe that Pollyanna crap when it comes to my MS. I have low vision but I see life more clearly, blah, blah, blah.

But then, I get a simple cold and my whole mood goes to hell in a handbasket.

I probably get one cold a year. I'm 48 so I've had many, many colds. You'd think I'd know by now that when my throat aches, my eyes water, and my nose runs, I do not get fevers. Never ever. There are times, I would bet my last dime that I am burning up, but the normal thermometer reading reveals my hypochondria for what it is. Wishful thinking. It's not that I want a fever exactly, but somehow I feel like a fever would justify how awful I feel.

Women make fun of men for being babies when they are sick and sometimes I join in on the joke. You know what, though? I'm just as bad. There is a little piece of me that believes I feel worse than anyone has ever felt and that I deserve a pity party...except that I am not allowed to actually alter my life much when I get a cold. Life goes on. I still get the kids up and fed and off to school. I still go to work (although I work from home so I can look as yucky as I feel). I still make dinner and make sure kids do their homework and take baths before bed. I feel like a slug but I'm really just fantasizing about being a slug. I am woman, hear me sniffle.