I'm Sick. Still.

Gemma is a stronger woman than I.

I've spent the last ten days battling what I'm sure will go down as the worst cold in my history. I won't bore you with the gore of green oozing out of every cranial orifice. But I do wonder: HOW LONG IS THIS SUPPOSED TO LAST?

I've asked my doctor for antibiotics and he tells me they won't work. I've asked my friend in the medical field about Airborne and Cold Eeze but she tells me I had to start taking it before I got sick. My dad gave me some Zicam and I swear the tabs and the swabs mocked me as I tried to gulp down the "virtually" tasteless cold syrup. Why is it I can't taste applewood cured bacon or Christmas fudge or freshly brewed coffee or anything but the bitter burn of "virtually" tasteless cold medicine? Yeah, I taste that just fine.

There are some good things about being sick. I've discovered SudaCare Shower Soothers and Vapor-Plugs. The eucalyptus did little to clear the viscous sludge in my sinus cavities and chest but the faint fragrance while I slept was like my mother's gentle hand rubbing my back.

The fever is gone though the chills linger and I'm still coughing up stuff that looks like it belongs in the New York City sewer lines. But I'm no longer hearing voices in my Alka Seltzer fizz. Nor am I witnessing the discarded tissues on my bedroom floor perform The Nutcracker's Snowflake ballet. However, that could be because I'm out of cough syrup.